


Discovering

by themodernmary



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kidnapping, Normal Criminal Minds Violence, Reader-Insert, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26348779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themodernmary/pseuds/themodernmary
Summary: You're a famous songwriter and despite going through a nasty yet private breakup with Dr. Spencer Reid four months ago, your career is skyrocketing. That is until you received body parts in your mail that belong to your murdered exes, along with a threatening note.Now that the BAU has been called in on the case, you have to face your demons and work with Spencer to solve the case before Spencer gets hurt or before the rest of his team finds out about your relationship.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 53
Kudos: 266





	1. Chapter 1

Dr. Spencer Reid knew that this case would be a particularly rough one when Penelope Garcia bounced into the conference room with her go-bag. He loved having Garcia there with the team- she made even the most gruesome of cases seem easier- but it always meant that there was something that would make this case extra hard, whether it be dealing with social media or a lack of signal.

Morgan, of course, was elated and greeted her with a “Baby girl, you get to take the jet this time.” 

Garcia grinned and took her seat as JJ began to pass out the folders. “Yes I do, my pretties,” Garcia chimed. “And let me tell you, I am personally  _ very _ excited about this case. Except for, you know… the murders and mutilation.”

Before anybody had the chance to question what Garcia could possibly mean by that, JJ pressed the remote and four different headshots popped up on the screen, each with a different guy. “Los Angeles PD is asking us for help on a string of murders. Three men, between the ages of 25-32. Their bodies were all found within the past two weeks. Each was killed with blunt force trauma to the head. However, they all also had a number of broken and bruised bones, which suggests they were beaten before they were killed.”

“Somebody must have been really angry at them,” Rossi muttered, flipping through the crime scene photos in his own folder.

JJ moved the slide onto the next set of photos, all photos of the bodies. “Yeah, and here’s the kicker. Each one of them had a body part removed postmortem, but none of them was the same part. Cole Crowther, 26, was found with his fingers cut off, Ian Taylor, 29, had his feet cut off, and Joey Gutierrez, 32, had his eyes removed.”

Spencer stared at the headshots of the men, his mouth pressed in a line. There was something familiar about the names, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “The fact that the unsub is removing the body parts postmortem suggests that it probably wasn’t to torture the victims. It’s more like he’s trying to send a message,” Spencer mused, unable to tear his eyes away from the photos.

Prentiss frowned in confusion and looked back up at JJ. “Any connections between the victims?”

JJ sighed as another photo came up onto the screen, and Spencer’s heart dropped immediately to his stomach.  _ No _ . There was no way she could be a suspect.  _ Okay, calm down. Breath in, breath out. This was all a misunderstanding. _ Spencer had a job to do and he had to focus on the murdered men. 

“The only connection LAPD could find,” JJ continued, “was that all three of the victims dated Y/N Y/L/N. Some of you may recognize her or have heard of her. She has two published poetry books but became a household name when she started writing songs for A list musicians this past year. Other than that, it’s unlikely these three men would have ever crossed paths. They were also all dumped on the beach within two miles of her house.”

“All I’m getting from that is that she lives two miles from the beach? Do we get to go?” questioned Garcia, who was actively looking anywhere but the crime scene photos. 

Morgan shifted in his seat, thumbing through the pages of the case files. “Have the LAPD considered her a suspect? I mean, it makes sense. Maybe she has a history of trauma with men and something happened recently that made her snap?”

His mouth moving faster than his brain could register, Spencer blurted out, “There’s no way it was her.” It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself, and with the way the rest of the room was staring at him, he knew that they were suspicious. Not like they would know what they should be suspicious of.

Spencer quickly tried to backtrack and explain. “Look at the bruising on those guys? There is no way somebody her size could do that kind of damage. Besides, women who murder rarely use that sort of force to kill. It wouldn’t make sense for the unsub to be a woman. And I doubt the LAPD would be asking for our help if it was that clear cut.” 

Nobody seemed satisfied with Spencer’s explanation, but they had to admit he had a point. Morgan’s calculating eyes lingered in Spencer’s direction longer than the rest of the team. He knew there was something more to Spencer’s reaction than just his own profiling, but he also knew it was no good to bring it up yet.

Prentiss quickly changed the subject in an attempt to get this briefing done quickly. “What about the body parts?” she asked. “Have those been found?”

“Unfortunately,” Garcia choked out. “Yesterday, they were sent in a box to Y/N’s house with a note that just said ‘Five, four, and three. Soon you’ll be with me’. So boy wonder would be correct, they aren’t thinking she’s the unsub.”

Spencer leaned forward, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “So what, they think this is a stalking case?”

“Or maybe it’s another ex?” JJ added. “Maybe he has some delusion that the only way he can get her back is by taking out who he perceives is competition.”

Rossi shook his head. “That still doesn’t explain why the unsub is cutting off random body parts. What kind of message could he be sending with fingers, feet, and eyes?”

Hotch closed his folder and stood up quickly. His piercing eyes scanned the room. “They’re not sure,” he said matter-of-factly. “They are still running the package through forensics. This case has already made a lot of headlines and with the anger this unsub is showing, we need to get this under control fast. Garcia, I’m bringing you along to help JJ with the media. I’m also going to need you to dig through as much of Y/N’s life as possible since she seems to be the target. It’s going to be faster on location.”

Hotch cleared his throat, and it was if he was standing a little bit taller. Even in his relaxed state, Hotch was always able to command the attention of a room, and it was even more apparent during these briefings. “Now, I don’t need to remind you all that this case will be highly publicized. That means we’re going to be getting a higher level of scrutiny from everybody. We all need to be on our A-game for this. We’re also going to be trying to work as remotely as possible from the police station in order to avoid any crowds. We can debrief more on the plane. Wheels up in thirty.”


	2. Chapter 2

Spencer got to the plane early, trying to control the anxiety that was slowly consuming him. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do this case- the feelings of his and Y/N’s breakup were still too raw. It was only four months ago that they decided to walk away from each other, both saying things they deeply regretted. There was yelling and crying and it was all too much for either of them to handle.  _ It was for the best _ , Spencer reminded himself, taking a sip of the bitter airplane coffee. But even that reminder didn’t ease the pain and nervousness he had of going back into the house he had stormed out of four months ago.

Spencer was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice Morgan sliding into the seat next to him. “What’s going on in that head of yours, kid?” Morgan asked, ruffling the younger agent’s hair.

Spencer moved his head out of the way, grimacing as he did. “Nothing. I’m just tired. And the flight to Los Angeles is always so long. And it doesn’t help that we’re flying East to West, which actually can make flights longer. That’s why the flight back to Quantico always feels quicker. Well, that and none of us have the adrenaline from starting a case,” he explained, using his hands to demonstrate the flight pattern.

Morgan chuckled fondly, shaking his head. He always viewed Reid as a younger brother, so he knew when something was going on in Reid's life. But he also knew that pressing it would only make Reid retreat into his shell even more. “You sure, man? Because back in the conference room, you looked like you saw a ghost. If you need to sit this one out-”

“I’m fine,” Spencer interrupted. “I don’t need to sit this out. Besides, we’ve seen way worse than this. There’s no sexual motivation, no torture, and it doesn’t even seem like it’s a compulsion. This case doesn’t bother me.”

That earned a frown from Morgan. “Okay…” He trailed off. “Look, something has been bothering you. You’ve been distant for weeks. You won’t go out with us anymore. We’re all worried about you.”

Spencer was saved from having to repeat the same “No, I’m fine, you don’t need to baby me” that he’s been repeating since he got to the BAU at a 22-year old by the rest of the team getting onto the plane, although he could still feel Morgan’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his head. 

Up in the air, Garcia flipped her computer towards the rest of the team. “Once again, I have amazed myself,” she said proudly. “So, I was doing some digging, and the last two victims, Ian and Joey, were both living in Los Angeles at the time they were murdered and the time they were dating Y/N. Both of them worked in the entertainment industry- Ian was a runway model and Joey was a director.”

Hotch nodded slowly, taking in every bit of information. “Okay, well that could explain the body parts. Models need feet to walk, directors use their eyes to see. Maybe the unsub is taking away their power? What about the first victim?”

Garcia grinned as if she was waiting for somebody to ask her that question. “This is where it gets weird. Cole had never been to Los Angeles until they found his body. He was born and raised in Santa Cruz, and he worked in environmental conservation. His girlfriend filed a missing person report for him exactly two days before he was murdered.”

“So our unsub was willing to travel to kidnap and murder this guy,” mused JJ. “Why? What made this guy so special?”

Garcia continued on her explanation. “I think our unsub is killing in the order Y/N dated these guys. From the looks of it, Cole and Y/N dated for a few months their junior year of high school and never really had any connection to each other again. They don’t follow each other on social media or anything.”

Rossi leaned forward and tapped his fingers on the side of the chair. “So the other two relationships were public- tabloids, gossiping, all of that. But the knowledge of this Cole suggests that our unsub may know Y/N better than we thought.”

“That would explain the note,” Prentiss agreed. “He’s counting down the ex-boyfriends he has to eliminate. He got the first three, and now he has two left.”

Spencer, who had been unnaturally quiet this whole time, suddenly tensed up. He hadn’t planned on telling the team about his history with Y/N; he didn’t think they needed to know in order to catch a murderer. But now he could very well be on the unsub’s hit list.  _ Give it a day or so _ , he bargained with himself.  _ You might be able to catch him before it ever gets to that. The team has caught unsubs with way less information.  _

It’s not that he didn’t trust his team members. In fact, before they broke up, Spencer was preparing a way to have them meet Y/N. But when you work with some of the best profilers, it sometimes felt like his entire life was on display, and more so when the person he was dating was famous. They both wanted something that they could keep in their own private bubble. Keeping each other a secret for a year wasn’t easy, but it helped that Y/N was able to fly out to Quantico more often than not. And at the time, it all seemed worth it.

Hotch cleared his throat. “Okay, when we land, Prentiss, Rossi, and I will head to the dumpsite to see what we can find. JJ, Ried, Garcia, and Morgan will go to Y/N’s house. Her publicist has requested JJ’s help in controlling the media. Garcia, I want you to see if she’ll let you look through her phone and computer. See who she spends her time talking to. Like we said, she’s probably close to this unsub. Morgan and Ried, I want you two to interview her.”

Spencer frowned and went to argue, but quickly decided against it. They would see through his excuses. Besides, he wanted to try and talk to her, just so that they were on the same page. If it got to the point where his team needed information on their relationship, he wanted to be the one to tell them. He figured he would get in a lot less trouble if it came from his lips.

But his hesitation didn’t go unnoticed. “Do you have a problem with that, Reid?” Hotch asked, but it was obvious that Hotch wasn’t going to budge.

“No, sir,” Spencer mumbled and he quickly averted his gaze. Spencer flipped his phone over and over in his hands, considering whether or not he should text Y/N. Give her a heads up that he was coming. Check to see if she was okay. But with Garcia doing her deep dive, he knew that she would find that connection before they even landed. So Spencer forced himself to be content with looking out the window, coming up with theories of his own, and trying to ignore the feeling that this case was going to change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I promise we'll get the reader POV in the next chapter, I just wanted to get all the case exposition out of the way


	3. Chapter 3

You knew most of the risks that would come when you made the transition from poetry to songwriting. You wouldn’t be able to work on your own schedule anymore, you’d have to deal with some divas, and you’d have to sacrifice some of your privacy. Those were all things you had considered and decided it was worth it because look where it got you! And besides, you weren’t the one who was up on stage performing the songs, you were just the brains behind the whole thing. You thought you were prepared for everything that your new public life could throw at you.

But a  _ serial killer _ ? That was one thing you couldn’t have expected.

You all too clearly remember when you received the first package because it was so out of the ordinary. Any fan mail all went to a different, corporate address, and if anybody else was sending you a package, they probably would have told you. Besides, this box wasn’t sent through the post office. It was just placed on your front porch with your name scribbled on it. And when you opened it to see the body parts… Well, let’s just say that you haven't thrown up that much since your 21st birthday.

So now you were sitting at your kitchen table, hands wrapped around a cup of peppermint tea, waiting for the “outside help” that the detective had told you was coming. He didn’t give you much detail, just that they were requesting some more help and that somebody would be coming to question you today. As if you hadn’t had to sit through enough questioning.

Like clockwork, your doorbell brought you back to reality. You hadn’t even realized you had zoned out. You quickly walked over to the door and looked through the peephole. There were four figures on the other side of the door, and you realized with a start that you _ knew _ them. Maybe not personally, but you knew about them. You had seen the photos. And the furthest in the back…

_ Spencer _ .

Oh god, they brought the FBI in, and with the luck you’ve been having the past two weeks, of course they bought in this BAU team. You fumbled with unlocking the door before swinging it open. Before you could say anything, you made eye contact with Spencer, who had his lips pressed in a line and was shaking his head no.

“Um… hi,” you said slowly, forcing yourself to look away from the face that had been haunting your dreams every night for the past four months.

The woman in front-  _ JJ _ you remembered- gave you a comforting smile. “Hi, I’m Agent Jareau, we’re with the FBI. Can we come in?”

You cleared your throat and stepped aside quickly. “Yeah, yeah of course.” As the four team members brushed past you, you felt sick to your stomach. This was worlds colliding in the worst way. These people, with the exception of Spencer who wouldn’t peel his eyes away from the floor, had no idea that you knew who they were. You knew about their families and their careers and the things that made them laugh. You knew them from the photos and stories that Spencer would show you. At the time, it was sweet; he was telling you about his own found family. Now it just felt invasive.

JJ continued the introductions. “This is Agent Morgan, technical analyst Penelope Garcia, and Dr. Spencer Reid.” You shook each of their hands with the exception of Spencer, who had his hands shoved firmly in his pockets. You both avoided eye contact as you nodded your head in acknowledgment, and if anybody thought anything about it, they didn’t show it.

It was quiet for a few moments. You could tell that they were waiting on your cues, maybe to see how fragile you were about the whole thing, but you couldn’t come up with any words. Luckily, you were spared by Penelope. “I have to be honest, I am a big fan of yours. I have your poem  _ Yellow _ taped up in my office back in Quantico.” Noticing the looks on the rest of the team’s faces, she backtracked. “But I will definitely remain completely professional and confidential.”

You chuckled softly, waving it off. “It’s fine. Thank you, it means a lot. And it’s actually kind of comforting, in a weird way.”

“Agent Morgan and Dr. Reid are going to ask you some questions. Is there a place where Penelope and I could set up while we do some media damage control?” JJ asked.

If the universe wasn’t already out to get you, of course Spencer would be questioning you. “Yeah, you can use my office space. If you go up the stairs and turn right, it’ll be at the end of the hall.”

The two women walked away with a chorus of “thank you”s, which left you alone with Spencer and Morgan. Spencer hadn’t stopped staring at his shoes since he came into the house, and you selfishly hoped it was because his heart was breaking, the same way yours was. You two had built so many memories in this house that it was like living with a ghost. Maybe all the memories were coming back to him, too. Or maybe he was annoyed and angry that he had to be back here. Or worst of all, maybe he was just focused on the case, and he was completely fine. No thoughts were spared to you or the time you shared. Spencer was always good at hiding his emotions when he wanted to. And it’s not like you could just profile him as easily as he could profile you.

“Is there a place we could sit down and talk?” Morgan said, his voice soft and velvety. It took you by surprise. You had only seen photos and heard stories, but you always pictured Morgan’s voice to be tougher and more rugged. But his voice had almost a calming effect on you. 

You nodded and guided them towards the living room. You took a seat on the couch and folded your legs under you, trying to get some sort of comfort. Morgan sat in the seat next to you and Spencer chose to remain standing.

“You received the box a few days ago, right?” Morgan confirmed and you just nodded your head. “Can you take us through that? Was there anything suspicious about it?”

You quickly ran through your thought process from when you got the package. “It was weird,” you summarized, “But I wasn’t suspicious about it. You saw, you have to have the passcode to get into the gate that even lets you in the driveway. I just thought it was one of my friends or my mom playing a prank on me.”

“Do a lot of people have the code for the gate?” Morgan asked.

Your eyes flickered over to Spencer.  _ He does _ , you thought, but that wasn’t relevant. “Not really?” you replied. You grabbed the pillow next to you and hugged it to your chest to try and provide some sort of comfort. “My mom does, and maybe a handful of close friends and people who work with me. I can get you a list?”

“Thank you. Have you met anybody recently? Maybe at a party, or maybe somebody has asked you out on a date? No interaction is too small.”

That sure got Spencer’s attention. He leaned in slightly and you could almost see the wheels turning in his brain. “No,” you said honestly. “I haven’t really been out much these past few weeks. I’m just focused on work. I can’t think of anybody who would do this.”

You saw the attitude change in Spencer before he even spoke. It was like a switch had been flipped and he was now Dr. Reid of the FBI. “Have you received any weird or suspicious fan mail recently?” You shook your head no. His words were getting faster with every word. “What about from old acquaintances? Has anybody from your hometown or from high school contacted you? We’re trying to figure out how the unsub knew about Cole.”

You knew the feeling of tightness in your throat as a signal that you were about to cry. Everything was just so overwhelming and you felt like you were being pulled in a million different directions. It all just felt like too much. “No, I’ve pretty much kept to myself lately.”  _ Because I was depressed over our breakup _ , you added in your head and even though he couldn’t technically read minds, you were sure Spencer could figure out the second part.

“Wait… Why does Cole matter so much? I haven’t talked to him in years,” you asked with a shaking voice.

Morgan clasped his hands together, his face soft without betraying any emotion. “We have reason to believe that the unsub traveled to Santa Cruz and kidnapped Cole before murdering him. We think that somebody is murdering your exes in order to get your attention, maybe they have a delusion that once the guys you’ve dated are out of the way, you will fall in love with him.”

That was the final straw. You covered your mouth as you choked out an “Oh my  _ god _ ” and you felt a few tears fall down your cheeks. “So they’re killing for me? This is my fault?”

Spencer’s face softened for the first time since he’d arrived. “No, it’s not your fault. Whoever is doing this isn’t in control of themselves. There’s nothing you could do to change that. Your focus should just be on staying safe.” You let yourself take a full breath since this whole thing started and before you could even mutter out a thank you, Spencer continued. “Is there anybody in your life that knows details about your romantic relationships? Maybe they’ve heard you talk about Cole in passing or have seen old high school yearbooks of yours? Do you share journals with them?”

You heard the underlying question he was asking:  _ Is there anybody we’ll be interviewing who knows about us? _ Luckily enough for you, you’ve kept your friend group fairly small since living in Los Angeles. “Just the same people who know the gate code. Maybe even less than that? It never really comes up. I know that there are old prom photos out on the internet somewhere though.”

Morgan nodded as he stood up, his eyes scanning the room around him. “Thank you. I’m sure some of our other team members will have more questions for you later. For now, do you mind if we take a look around the house? There might be something helpful.”

“Yeah of course,” you answered instinctively. That seemed to be all the police were doing lately, looking through her life because they couldn’t find out anything else. Morgan and Spencer split up, and after a few seconds of internal debate, you stood up to follow Spencer. 

You found him in your piano room, back turned to you and flipping through your lyric journals, and for a second, it looked like any other day when you two were together- you’d be sitting on the piano bench and working through lyrics while Spencer would be sitting on the loveseat and pretending to read. Neither of you ever got much work done, but it was your favorite place to be together. Sometimes, you would play him demos of songs, and every time you told him a line was about him he would get flustered. You liked being the one to make the man with an IQ of 187 go speechless.

But that was all over now and you had to remind yourself that he was there because people were dead, not for you. 

Unsure of what to do, you knocked on the open door as an introduction. “Can we talk?” you asked nervously, and at the sound of your voice, Spencer immediately tensed up again.

“I’m, uh, kind of busy,” he said firmly, and to prove how busy he was, he shut the journal he was looking at with more force than necessary.

You sighed and took a few steps into the room. “I know, I just thought…” You closed the door behind you and Spencer turned to look at you. You were able to get a good look at him for the first time today, and you noticed the dark circles around his eyes were even more pronounced. He obviously hadn’t been sleeping. His hair was messier than usual, too. “I just thought you could explain why we’re not telling your team that we dated? You know, considering this unsub’s whole thing is about killing my exes?”

Spencer set down the book he was looking at and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t want to risk getting taken off this case, which I’m sure they would have heavily suggested if they found out. Besides, this unsub is somebody close to you, which means they’re definitely going to insert themself in the case and they’re going to try to be the main source of comfort for you. I think this is going to get solved quickly and they won’t have to know.”

You laughed sarcastically as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Okay, so don’t trust anybody who is going to try and be nice to me during this case. That’s good to know. My last moments could be full of betrayal.”

Spencer frowned at your comment. “Last moments? Is that what this is about? Y/N, the profile says that this guy isn’t going to want to kill you. And you’re going to have one of us here to protect you every night. You don’t have anything to worry about.” He took a few steps closer to you and tentatively reached out his hand before pulling it back quickly.

You looked up, trying to keep any tears from spilling. You weren’t going to cry, not here, not in front of Spencer. You’ve done enough crying in front of Spencer. “You’ve told me yourself, these people can snap in an instant. What if I accidentally set him off? Or how about when he finds out you’re here? What body part is he going to cut off of you?”

Spencer tightened his lips into a line, the way he always does. You used to think it was cute, but right now everything seemed bleak. “We’re not going to let it get that far. And if the unsub does figure all that out, well… I’ve been in a lot more dangerous situations. You’ve got to trust in the team.”

You reached out to cup his cheek with one of your hands, desperate for some sort of comfort. He didn’t lean into it like he usually did, but he also didn’t pull back, which was a good sign. It reminded you that he was actually there and not just a dream. “I’m really afraid, Spencer,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve heard all of your stories and I know how these things end and I just know it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

Spencer stared at you and you were unable to read his expression. He just looked lost in his own thoughts, which for Spencer was just a normal Tuesday. “Probably,” he admitted. “But it’s going to get better. We’re going to catch this guy and then you can go on living your life as normal. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really do need to search your house, and it’s pretty big.” With that, he left the piano room, and it was a sight you were all too familiar with.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words and your support! It means the world to me. This chapter's word count kind of got away from me, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

The rest of the BAU arrived soon after your conversation with Spencer. You wanted to be excited about finally meeting them all for the first time, but the day had taken so much energy out of you that all you wanted to do was go upstairs and take a nap. It was weird having every part of your life combed through, as if you were the one they were looking to arrest. It also made you suddenly aware of how other people perceive you, which isn’t something you ever gave much thought to.

This was especially evident when you heard Prentiss’s amused chuckle as she looked over your bookshelf. You had decided to stay in the living room while the team searched, that way they would know where to find you if they had any questions.

“That is a lot of copies of  _ Frankenstein _ ,” she said with a hint of admiration. “You must really like Halloween.”

You laughed, maybe for the first time since this day started. She was right, you did have a lot of copies of it- thirty-six to be exact. “ _ Frankenstein  _ is my favorite book. I collect copies of it. Different covers, versions in different languages, all that fun stuff. I’ve always loved 19th century Romantic literature,” you explained.

What you didn’t tell her was that the collection only got big this past year. Spencer had started making it a tradition to try and find a new copy for you whenever the BAU went to a new city. You remember the first time he brought you one; it was after a particularly rough case.

_ “You didn’t need to take the time to do this, I know you were probably busy,” you told him, admiring the fore-edge painting on the book. “Besides, how did you know I didn’t already have this one?” _

_ “Eidetic memory, remember?” he reminded you, his grin practically splitting his face. “And I was happy to do it. It became my motivation- the quicker we did on the case, the sooner I could get this to you. And…” Spencer’s words trailed off and you could see his eyebrows furrow as he remembered the gruesome details of the case. He didn’t give you details, just that it involved kids and the unsub was killed in the end. “And it was a welcome distraction. Even if just for a few minutes.” _

Emily raised an eyebrow as she ran her fingers across the spines of the books. “Wait, it’s a love story?”

Spencer, who you had noticed was lingering in the front area of your house, popped his head in the doorway. “Capital ‘r’ Romance books actually had very little to do with love stories. The Romantic movement of literature was more focused on individuality and freedom. There are a lot of themes of nature and experiences of the inner self. Romantic authors rejected ideas of industrialization, organized religion, or social conventions. That’s why so many pieces of Romantic literature have gothic or supernatural elements; it was a whole new way of looking at the world. Other Romantic authors include Edgar Allen Poe and Jane Austen. And Mary Shelley, the author of  _ Frankenstein, _ is actually credited as inventing the genre of sci-fi, and she was only 18. Imagine that. That book brought us huge cultural phenomena like Star Wars, Star Trek, and Doctor Who.”

It was quiet for a moment as everybody took in Spencer’s ramblings. “You know,” Prentiss broke the silence. “I don’t know how, after working with you for so long, your knowledge still surprises me. You really do know everything, huh?” Spencer stood up a little taller at the compliment, obviously proud of himself. 

“Actually,” Spencer added, making a beeline towards Prentiss. It amazed you how quickly he was able to shift from his nerdy, personal self to his professional, FBI self. “If this unsub knows Y/N, then he would know about her collection. Maybe the body parts are a nod to the creation of Frankenstein’s monster?”

Prentiss shrugged as she squatted down to look at the rest of the bookshelf. “Maybe. But then why send them to her? And he would probably need bigger body parts to do that. This all seems too personal.”

You were saved from having to sit through the rest of that conversation by your phone ringing. You quickly excused yourself and walked up to your room, answering the phone without even looking at the caller ID. Any conversation would be better than the one going on between Spencer and Emily.

“Hello?” you answered, shutting your bedroom door behind you.

“Hey there.” The comforting voice of your best friend, Blake, washed over you and you collapsed on your bed.

“Blake,” you breathed. You two had met when you were in college- he was your dorm’s residential advisor during your freshman year, and you quickly became close friends. At the beginning of your friendship, you suspected that he might have had a small crush on you, but it seemed to have faded before it became a problem, and now he was like the older brother you never had. “God, it is so good to hear from you. It is… crazy at my house.”

“I could imagine,” he replied. “I went to stop by your place earlier, but I saw all the SUVs parked outside and figured you were busy. I almost used the fire escape into your room, but I wasn’t in the mood to see how quickly the police would arrest me when they saw that.”

You laughed into the receiver. There wasn’t an actual fire escape, but your room window was in the perfect place that you could climb out and sit on the roof. And, if a person had a big enough step stool and enough upper body strength, they could climb up to that same spot. It was peaceful up there, and you often found yourself sitting on the roof and stargazing. “Not just the police. Blake, the  FBI  is here. And to make everything even more stressful, _Spencer_ is here. They brought in his department to help find the psycho who’s doing this.”

For a few seconds, all you could hear on the other end of the line was Blake’s heavy breathing. It felt like hours before he responded. “Spencer Reid is there?” he asked, but there was an edge to it. You brushed it off. Blake never liked Spencer much- he thought that Spencer was gone way too much and had too much baggage, and that dislike was only exacerbated by the breakup. “They let him on the case.”

You scrunched your nose up. “The rest of his team doesn’t exactly know our history,” you admitted sheepishly. “He’s hoping to solve it before we need to open that can of worms. And we’re hoping to keep it quiet until absolutely necessary, so if the police question you, can you just… do some omission of truth?”

You heard Blake rustling through something on his end. “How close are they to solving it?” he asked, that edge never leaving his voice. He was probably worried about you and how you were handling the whole situation.

“I don’t know. I mean, they just got here. But I’ve heard of this team solving harder cases in less time.” There was still rustling on Blake’s side of the class, so you continued. It was nice to be able to just talk about the case openly. “Hey, if you’re worried about me, you don’t have to be. I’m going to have FBI agents staying with me. He won’t get me.” 

Blake sighed and the rustling stopped. “I know. It’s just hard not to be worried about you. I wish I could be there for you. You just told me that you were getting over Spencer, and now this? It’s just not fair.”

You quickly wiped away the few stray tears that had fallen. You realized with a shock that you haven’t had time to actually process what you were feeling. The past two weeks had been a whirlwind of press releases and police interviews, so you never got the chance to just sit and feel sorry for yourself. “It’s not fair,” you agreed with him. “But there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Maybe…” Blake mused. “Hey, I have to go. But I’ll call you tomorrow? And every day after to make sure you’re okay.”

You nodded and sat up in your bed. “Oh, that was quick. But yeah, sure. And stay safe out there for me, okay?” You barely had time to fit in that last sentence before he hung up. “Okay, bye. Good talking to you, too,” you muttered sarcastically before shoving your phone into your back pocket. You turned your head to look at the alarm clock next to your bed, and to your dismay, it was only five in the afternoon. You were exhausted from the entire day, but you knew that 5 o’clock was still way too early to pass out.

_ Well, _ you thought to yourself as you dragged yourself out of bed and back downstairs.  _ Might as well make some use of all these emotions _ . Your feet felt like cinder blocks and with every step, your anxiety got more and more intense. Your room was your safe space from everything going on. But you knew that the BAU was bound to search it soon, so you made your way back to your piano room.

Once you got to your piano, you quickly set up all of your sheet music and your phone so that you could record yourself. You found that video recording worked best for sending in demos because the sound was clearer and it allowed the artist to see how complicated or uncomplicated the piano work was. 

Singing the lyrics under your breath, you started the painstaking process of composing and writing the accompaniment, each note you chose being written in by hand. Every once in awhile, you’d have to go back and cross out entire sections when it didn’t flow  _ exactly _ the way you wanted it to. What could you say, you were a perfectionist.

You weren’t sure just how long you were working- it had to have been at least a few hours, but as you were, you felt a chill down your spine, as if you were being watched. Your body tensed up, too afraid to turn towards the door. To try and ignore the fear that was slowly engulfing you, you fumbled through the bridge one more time.

“That was really good.”

You practically jumped up from your piano bench, your hand coming to your chest. The sound of Penelope’s heels clicking across the hardwood towards you matched the beat of your racing heart. You turned to look at her, and saw that blush was quickly spreading across her cheeks. “Oh, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Or... eavesdrop,” she added sheepishly.

You took a few deep breaths. You were safe. It was just Penelope. “Yeah, no it’s fine,” you assured her. “I guess I’m still getting used to having this many people in my house at all times. Oh, and you figured out the espresso machine. Good,” you added, noticing the mug in her hand. You had told each of the team members that they were welcome to eat or drink anything they wanted, especially the coffee machine, and you were glad that at least one of the team members was taking you up on your offer.

Penelope laughed and took a sip out of the mug. “Oh definitely. We do not get this good of coffee at the FBI office. This is actually enjoyable to drink, instead of just having to drink it to stay awake. So you’re a  _ Star Trek _ fan, I take it?”

She held up the mug and you instantly recognized it. It was extra large with the Starfleet insignia on it. You had gotten it as a gift for Spencer when you gave him a key to your house. Initially, he was confused because you had no shortage of mugs, but you explained that you wanted him to have something that was  _ his _ at your place; a way to make it feel more shared. He must have forgotten it when he was taking his stuff back.  _ Glad to know it mattered to him _ . 

“Uhm…” You paused, trying to figure out the best way to answer that. “Big William Riker fan,” you settled on. It wasn’t a lie, but then you didn’t have to go through the process of explaining why you had that mug without being a ‘real fan’.

Penelope tilted her head to the side. “Okay, now which one is William Riker? Our resident genius, Dr. Reid, loves Star Trek and has forced each of us to watch it with him at some point.”

“He’s from  _ Next Generation _ . The young one with a beard? Kirk’s second in command and  _ very _ cute,” you explained, turning on the piano bench so you could face her completely. If Spencer had convinced Penelope to watch  _ Star Trek _ , you were almost positive that it would have been  _ Next Generation _ .

Penelope thought about it for a second before she was able to connect the name with the face. “Oh, he is cute,” she agreed, and when she smiled, it was like the whole room lit up. Spencer had told you about Penelope, but nothing could have fully prepared you for her. She really did make everything seem like it was going to be okay. “So are you working on anything special?”

You shrugged, not wanting to get back to work. It was one of those days where nothing sounded good, and you really weren’t getting anywhere. “Not really. Apparently being the target of a serial killer doesn’t get me out of deadlines, but I just can’t get the melody down, so I’m just… messing around,” you admitted. Then, before you could convince yourself that it was a bad idea, you took a leap of faith. “If you’re not busy, you’re welcome to stay and listen. I could use the company.” 

The piano room was fairly small- just enough room for your piano, a loveseat, and a bookshelf- but Penelope gladly came into the room. “Yeah, I’d love to. Music must be a pretty good distraction from all this craziness, huh?”

You shrugged, absentmindedly playing some song by some old composer you learned years ago as a beginner. “It can be. It makes everything feel a little bit more normal. But I’m definitely not relaxed, as you found out.”

Penelope hummed in sympathy. “And I’m sure having all these strangers in your house isn’t making it easier.”

You kept your eyes glued on the piano keys as you took in her words. Something about her made you want to tell her everything. You wanted to tell her that, no, having the entire BAU in your house is all you’ve ever wanted, but just not like this. You were more thinking of a New Years Eve party, or even a team dinner for the next time they had a case in Los Angeles. “I feel safer with you all staying here,” you told her. “I know that this guy supposedly doesn’t want to kill me, but it’s not like he’s going to kill all of these guys and just... disappear, you know? He’s gotta confront me at some point.”

Penelope nodded sympathetically and reached out to cover your hands with hers. “I get it, trust me. But the people on this team are like real-life superheroes. If anybody is going to catch this guy, it’s them. They are some serious miracle workers sometimes..”

Before you could answer, Spencer peaked his head through the doorway and stared straight at Penelope. He looked worried, which made both you and Penelope stand up. “Hotch needs you,” he told the tech analyst firmly, and there was something in his voice that put you on edge. Penelope grabbed the coffee mug and rushed out of the room. Spencer started to leave with her, but you quickly grabbed his wrist, effectively keeping him from going anywhere.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice shaking.

Spencer placed his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs moving in slow circles. He was trying to calm you down, and for a split second, it worked. It was just like the good times you two had. But reality kicked it before you could even fully enjoy the moment. “You don’t need to worry,” he said softly.

You couldn’t help the nervous laugh that came out of your mouth. “Yeah, well now I am worried. Tell me what’s going on,” you repeated, putting as much confidence into the demand as possible, but you knew it was a mediocre attempt at best.

Spencer nodded slowly, as if convincing himself this was the right call. “They need Garcia to check security cameras outside. More body parts were just delivered, with another note. We’re about to go search for the body, see if we can beat the unsub to the dumpsite.”

A sob ripped through your body without any warning and Spencer had to hold you up so that you didn’t collapse right there. “What… What body parts? What did the note say?”

“Y/N…” Spencer begged. He didn’t want to say anything to her- it wasn’t going to do her any good until they found out more information.

You shook your head firmly. “No. No, you don’t get to hide this from me. What did it say, Spencer Reid?”

Spencer frowned. “It was lips. And the note just said ‘You can’t keep her from me’.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Completely stopped all plot to write fluff between us and Spencer? It's more likely than you think. 
> 
> I... kind of got carried away with this chapter and made it way too long. Whoops. I wanted to go more into how Spencer and the reader had met, and since it's only going to get angstier from here, I thought this was the best time to do that! In case there is any confusion, the majority of this chapter takes place in a dream, but it's all memories of when the reader and Spencer met. Also, part of this chapter is very self-indulgent and was inspired by THAT photo of mgg with the lipstick all over him. iykyk

It took a lot of work, but Spencer finally convinced you to try to go to bed while the team investigated the next body, only on the condition that he would tell you everything they learned, protocol be damned. Going to bed seemed like a selfish thing to do, but Spencer was right when he said that there was nothing you could do at this moment. The longer they had to take to make sure you were okay and in bed, the longer it took for them to make it to the body, and the BAU did not have that kind of time to waste. So you fixed yourself some tea and forced yourself to fall asleep.

When you dreamt that night, you dreamt of Spencer.

You were walking down the aisle of an airplane. You glanced down at your ticket to remind yourself of your seat number- _3_ _B._ One of the perks of transitioning to songwriting was that you were able to fly business class, even for such a short trip. You quickly found your seat and settled in.

The person who had booked the seat next to you was already settled in, skimming through a book so fast that you thought your mind was playing tricks on you. He was turning the page every few seconds. As he shifted in his seat, you caught a glimpse of the cover of the book, and a grin spread across your face. “You know,” you mused, putting on your seatbelt. “Some people say that they like that book even better when they actually read it and process the words.”

The stranger looked up at you for the first time since you sat down, and you were struck by how cute he was. He seemed to take a second to study your features before speaking. “I actually read at 20,000 words per minute with full retention and comprehension. When a person reads, there are two parts to the process, the fixation and the saccade. The fixation is the process in which your eyes are actually looking at the word, which takes about .25 seconds, and the saccade is when your eyes move onto the next word, which only takes .1 seconds. Once you do both of those parts, your brain has to go over the entire sentence again to figure out what the words mean, and that takes around half a second. To be able to read fast, you have to speed up the fixation and stop subvocalizing the words you’re reading.”

Immediately after he finished, you could tell he felt embarrassed. His nose twitched slightly and he avoided eye contact with you. You raised your eyebrows at him, nodding slowly. “Okay… And what exactly is subvocalizing?”

He seemed all too happy to answer your question, even if he seemed a little shocked that you asked it in the first place. “It’s when you actually say the words in your head. When you’re reading, your brain takes the time to speak them, just silently. When I read, I only see the words and process them that way.”

An amused smile spread across your face. “So you’re saying that you can tell me exactly what you just read?”

The stranger nodded, and his curls bounced with every movement he made. “Definitely, and it’s actually a fascinating book. It explores the ties of human psychology in horror and gothic art, especially during the 19th century, and how it’s all based in science. But... I’m guessing you’ve read this already, based on your initial statement,” he added, the confidence in his voice wavering slightly at the end.

“I have. I actually wrote the foreword in it,” you admitted, chuckling slightly. “Dr. Eliana Quinn, the author, was my mentor and research advisor when I was in college. My research was all based in 19th century Romanticism, so she asked me if I would be willing to write that for her.”

He turned slightly in his seat so that he could face you a little more directly. “Oh, you’re a researcher?”

“No, I’m a poet. Well, a poet turned lyricist, but I went to school for poetry,” you said, shaking your head. “But for undergrad, I had to do tons of research. You can’t be a writer without first studying past writers. Dr. Quinn was the best advisor who really helped my career take off, so writing the foreword and endorsing her book was the least I could do.” You checked out the man sitting next to you more closely. He had dark circles around his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days, but he still looked like his mind was going a million miles a minute. You decided you wanted to get to know him better. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduced, holding your hand out for him to shake.

He glanced at your outstretched hand before just giving you a nod as a greeting. Slowly, you pulled your hand back, trying to hide the confusion on your face. “Sorry, I don’t really do handshakes,” he said sheepishly. “I’m Spencer Reid. It’s nice to meet you.”

You waved off Spencer’s apology. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I get it, airplanes are kind of gross. So… What brought you to Los Angeles? I’ve lived in California my entire life, and you are definitely not a local,” you explained.

“Oh, just work. We travel a lot.”

Spencer was flippant in his reply, but there was something about him that made you want to know more. “And what do you do for work?” you pressed.

Spencer paused before cautiously answering. “I work for the FBI.”

You turned in your seat so that you could face more towards him. The plane slowly started to taxi, which meant that you would be in Vegas within the next 90 minutes. Okay, so you had 90 minutes to try and impress Spencer enough to get his number. “So you’re one of the ones watching us through our phones, huh?” you teased.

The sides of Spencer’s mouth slowly twitched up into a smile. “We actually don’t do that, believe it or not. And if it’s privacy against the government you’re worried about, webcams are actually the least of your worries. We can actually find more information on you and quicker by other means. Webcam stalking is more low-level hacker stuff.”

There was a beat of silence while you waited for the punchline that never came. “Oh, you’re not joking?” He shook his head. “Okay, that’s a little terrifying. So is that what you do? You look up information on us?”

The plane started to take off. “No, I don’t do that either. I’m a profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We assist in tracking down criminals by studying their behaviors and motivations. This helps us predict who they are and what their next steps are going to be,” he explained. He seemed to sit up a little taller as he explained his job, pride dripping from every word. “We were just in LA working a case.”

Despite yourself, you looked around at the people sitting near you. None of them looked like what you would expect an FBI agent to look like, but then again, neither did Spencer. “And what, you all have a case in Vegas next? Is your team on this plane, too?”

“No, when we have a case, we usually take the private jet,” he told you, chuckling at the look of surprise on your face. “It’s because we have to get around quickly. It’s more efficient. But I decided not to go back to Quantico with them just yet. I’m from Las Vegas, so I’m visiting my mom. I’ll be here for the week.” Obviously uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken, he quickly shifted it on to you. “So what brings you to Las Vegas?”

You smirked and leaned back in your seat. “Why don’t you guess?” His eyebrows scrunched in confusion, so you explained yourself further. “You said you’re a profiler and you guess the criminal's next steps. I’m not a criminal, but I’m interested in seeing your job in action.”

It was a bold move, you admit. Spencer very easily could have just said no and ignored you for the rest of the flight. But you were intrigued by Spencer, and talking to him came easily, so you figured you had to take some calculated risks. Luckily, it seemed to work, and Spencer leaned forward in his seat.

“Okay,” he started. “You’re dressed in leggings, which suggests that that is a personal trip instead of a work one, which would require you to dress more formally. You mentioned you’ve lived in California all your life, which lowers the possibility of any sort of reunion, family or school. You only have your purse with you, which means your belongings are all in a checked bag, and since Nevada is very hot this time of year, it’s definitely not because you have a bunch of coats with you. By taking this flight, you’re going to be in Vegas by noon on a Friday, which will put you here all weekend. Your nails look freshly done as well. I’m going to say a birthday or bachelorette party?”

Spencer looked at you expectantly, but you could tell that he already knew that he was right. It wasn’t smug or arrogant, just confidence. “Bachelorette party,” you confirmed, shaking your head in amazement. “My college roommate is getting married. That was pretty amazing. If your whole team is as smart as you, then I definitely feel a lot safer.” Considering your last bold move went so well, you decided to test your luck even more. “Can I try profiling you?”

Spencer seemed hesitant at first, trying to figure out what you were trying to get out of it. But he must have realized that you had no chance of actually being able to profile anything important. “Sure, let’s see what you can do.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your empty nerves. “You’re obviously a Vegas local, so when the plane lands and I ask you for the best place to get lunch in the area, you’re going to offer to show me in person and once we get there, you’re going to ask for my number so that we could hopefully meet up again before we both go back home?” Your voices trailed off slightly at the end, your confidence wavering. You couldn’t read his reaction.

Spencer nodded slowly at your weak attempt of asking him out. You were just about to apologize profusely before he smiled at you. “Close. I promised my mom I would visit her as soon as I landed, so I was thinking more along the lines of coffee for today and dinner a different night?”

You smiled as you felt your cheeks get hot. “Yeah, coffee is great.”

The dream shifted in your mind and you were suddenly standing outside some bar, your old roommate, Michelle, stumbling out of the doors after you. “You are  _ not  _ going to wait out here by yourself!” she slurred, and you laughed as she leaned on you for support. You adjusted her ‘bride-to-be’ sash so it wasn’t falling off of her.

“Uh-huh, and you’re going to be the one to protect me if something happens?” you teased. You loved your friend, but she has never known how to drink in moderation. You’ve had to hold her hair back while she was throwing up on many occasions.

“ _ Yes  _ !” she said confidently. “And I wanna meet this Shawn boy that is taking you away from my party early!”

After a great time at coffee, you and Spencer had made dinner date plans. The only issue was that when Michelle said the party was going to all day, every day, she actually meant it. Which meant the only way you could convince her to let you leave the festivities for the night was to tell her about Spencer.

“First of all, his name is Spencer, not Shawn,” you reminded her. “And I don’t want to freak him out by immediately introducing him to all of my drunk friends.”

Michelle blew raspberries at you. “He’s gonna have to deal with it because I am keeping you safe out here.”

Before you could respond, you heard a familiar voice behind you. “And I do appreciate it. Statistically, the more people in a group, the more protected you are, even if nobody in the group is particularly threatening.”

You and Michelle whipped around to the source of the voice, and your heart immediately swelled. “Spencer,” you breathed, unable to stop the smile that was forming. There was something about Spencer that just felt safe, and you didn’t know just what it was.

Spencer gave you a small wave as a greeting, but before he could say hello, Michelle had perked up. “This is him? Wow, your FBI ID photo does not do you justice, you are  _ much _ cuter in person,” she informed him, and you had to tighten your grip on her just to keep her from getting too comfortable with Spencer. “Good catch, Y/N.”

Your face went bright red at Michelle’s comments. Of course you and your friends Googled him, but you didn’t think she would openly admit it. Despite him looking obviously uncomfortable, Spencer chuckled good-naturedly. “Thank you? Uh, congratulations on your engagement.”

Michelle looked over at you, her mouth open and ready to make another comment that would make you want to die of embarrassment, so you quickly interjected. “I’m sorry about her,” you told Spencer. “I’m just going to bring her back inside to the rest of the group. I don’t really trust her to get there by herself.”

“Let me help you,” Spencer offered. You were about to tell him no, but he obviously noticed you struggling to try and support Michelle’s weight. Usually, it wasn’t a problem, but she had insisted on you wearing a pair of her heels for your date with Spencer, and they were a half size too big for you. You put one of her arms over your shoulders while Spencer took the other arm. 

“Thank you,” you said apologetically, and he just laughed.

“I’ve had to do this for a few of my friends more than once. I get it.”

You chuckled as the three of you maneuvered your way through the bar to the booth where the rest of your friends had set up. You could see them all sizing up Spencer, and both you and Spencer tensed up at that.

“Please cut her off and take her back to the hotel?” you told your friends as you set Michelle down on the booth seat, but it was obvious they were ignoring you.

“You’re already in here, why don’t you and Spencer stay for a drink or two? More guys are buying us drinks than we can keep up with, and now we have one more person to help us drink them so they don’t go to waste,” one of them offered, but you shook your head quickly.

“No thanks, we were going to leave straight to dinner. It’s already getting late enough,” you said firmly. You went to go walk away when the start of a new song came on through the speakers. You heard your friends’ laughter behind you because they knew they had a way to get you to stay a little longer.

“Come on, Y/N,” they sang. “This is the first time all weekend this has played, don’t you want to listen?”

You groaned to yourself before turning to Spencer, who looked confused. You really wanted to go to dinner and just get out of that bar and be with him, but on the other hand, this was the first time you had heard your new song in person with other people singing and enjoying it. You wanted to have that moment.

“Remember how I said I was a lyricist?” you told him, your voice raised so he could hear you over the noises of the bar. “This is my song and it’s the first time I’ve heard it and-”

Spencer said something but you couldn’t hear it above the music. You pointed to your ear to signal that you missed what he said, and he put his lips right up against your ear. “We can stay and listen. It’s no problem,” he told you, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You grinned and kissed him on the cheek as a thank you, and you had to hide your laugh when you noticed your lipstick had left a mark on his cheek. You were about to wipe it off for him, but decided that you could have your fun with it for now; You liked looking at it. Okay, maybe those two shots you had at the beginning of the night weren't the best idea in the world.

Your dream went by in flashes- Spencer and you sitting together in a corner booth, cheers-ing your drinks together, playing darts and failing miserably, and even getting up to dance, although neither of you were very good at it. Each new memory earned a new lipstick mark somewhere on Spencer’s neck or cheek. Your friends were long gone, leaving you alone with Spencer and an unopened bottle of champagne. Both of you really had planned on leaving as soon as your song was done, but you had got to talking and you each had had a few drinks, and you realized that you just wanted to be around him.

Before you knew it, both of you were halfway through the champagne bottle, and you were close enough to be sitting on his lap. “I don’t think we’re going to be making it to dinner,” you whispered in his ear, one of your hands running through his hair. 

Spencer laughed and placed one of his hands on your knee. Your breath hitched in your throat. There was a softness to his move though, as if he was just trying to stay connected to you. “Probably not,” he agreed. He smiled at you and you practically melted.

Maybe it was the drinks, or maybe it was the way the sleeves of his button-up were pushed up to his sleeves, or maybe it was the thought that this could very well be the last night you would be with Spencer. But you had to do something. “I don’t usually do this,” you started. Your hands were shaking. “I’m not a partier or anything like that. But I go back to California tomorrow and you live on the other side of the country and while I really, really want to keep talking to you, I might not see you for a while and I just would feel really stupid if I left without-”

Spencer cut you off by tangling his fingers in your hair and smashing his lips to yours. You immediately climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around him, wanting to bring him as close to you as possible. His lips were soft.

When the two of you finally pulled apart from each other, you were both breathing heavily. Your lipstick was smudged on his lip, and it just made you want to kiss him more. “Spencer Reid,” you breathed, your arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers playing with his hair. “I think I’m going to write about you for the rest of my life.”

Spencer looked at you with something in his eyes you couldn’t quite recognize, but you liked it. You wanted him to keep looking at you like that. “I look forward to reading them,” he promised. “Look, I have a hotel just a few blocks away…” He trailed off, but that was all you needed. You grabbed his hand and he called a taxi and-

You woke up with a start. You were sweaty and breathing heavily, and when you went to brush the hair out of your face, you felt that it was wet. You were crying. You hadn’t dreamt of the time you met Spencer since you two first broke up. You had tried to repress those memories, desperate to not think of how happy you two were.

The sunlight filtering into the room told you that it was the morning, so at least you were able to get a full night's sleep. Your eyes flickered to the journal you kept by your bed and something from your dream came back to you.

_ I think I’m going to write about you for the rest of my life… _

You jumped out of bed and frantically threw on your robe. You had to talk to whichever agent was downstairs because you figured it out. In the back of your mind, you knew that you probably looked like a crazy person, but it didn’t matter.

When you got downstairs, you saw the entire BAU sitting around your kitchen table, obviously bring briefed on what the day would entail. When they saw you running downstairs, a few of them stood up, their minds probably going to the worst-case scenario.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Hotch said cautiously. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, taking a few deep breaths to ground you. “Yes. Maybe. Uh, I think the stalker was in my house before he started killing,” you told them. That certainly got their attention.

“Why do you say that?” That question came from Spencer, and hearing him sound so worried about you brought back all of those feelings from your dream. But you didn’t have time to focus on it.

You were uncomfortable with everybody’s expectant eyes on you. “Uh, so a few weeks ago, I realized I was missing some of my journals, but I didn’t think anything of it because things get misplaced all the time and I have a lot of them.”

Prentiss leaned against the kitchen table. “What’s in these journals? And what makes you think the unsub took them?”

Your hands were shaking as you pushed the hair out of your face. “They’re all 1st drafts of poems and lyrics. They mention people by name in them and they get very specific. I annotate my own words so that I can remember exactly who I’m talking about. And all of those body parts that were sent to me are body parts that I wrote about.”

Your whole body was practically shaking at this point. This creep had been in your house long enough to look through your stuff. Who knows what else he had done while he was there. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you had to continue. “Uh, Cole had his fingers removed? I wrote about holding hands under the bleachers and running my fingers through his hair. Ian and his feet? The breakup poem I wrote was all about how we would go on walks together everywhere until he walked away from me. I wrote about how pretty I thought Joey’s eyes were. Some of these poems weren’t even published, so he  _ had _ to have taken them from my journals.”

“Thank you for letting us know. This is very helpful.” Hotch then turned back to the team, their game plan obviously needing to change. “Okay, we need to go back and re-question anybody who had access to her house. Penelope, I want you to go through her computer, see if there was anything taken from her files there.”

Everybody broke off into their separate groups, but Spencer walked slowly directly towards you. You sighed, not in the mood to get into it with him right now. “Look, I’m sorry, but if they go through my stuff, I can’t stop them from finding things they won’t want to find,” you said immediately.

But Spencer just shook his head and placed his hand on your shoulder. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Break-ins shake up even the strongest of people.” You shrugged and folded your arms across your chest. Spencer looked at you with a softness you haven’t seen from him since before he left. You missed it and you missed him. No matter how much you wanted to deny it, you missed Spencer. 

“We’re going to find this guy,” Spencer promised. “We’re going to find him and put him in jail for the rest of his life. I have to get back to work, but one of us will be here with you all day. We’re going to keep you safe.” And when Spencer said it, he said it liked he truly believed it, and when Spencer was confident, it was hard not to feel okay.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is definitely a first for me, if you all like having these breaks with backstory, I'd be happy to do more of it! 
> 
> Also, thank you all so so SO much for all of your support and love for this story. I love reading your theories, too! It really does make my whole day better. You all are the BEST


	6. Chapter 6

After the body part realization, Morgan, Hotch, and Spencer headed back to the M.E.'s office, hoping to see if there were any more clues as to who the unsub could be. 

“Major overkill,” Morgan noticed, bending down to take a closer look at the body. “This is the first time this unsub has used a knife to stab him as well instead of just beating his victims.”

Hotch looked over the coroner’s report, eyes scanning the paper over and over. “And it looks like all the stab wounds were done post mortem. So this unsub blitz attacks the victim, smashes in the back of his head to kill him, goes to cut off the lips and then what? Realizes that it wasn’t enough to satiate his need to kill?”

“Maybe something set him off,” Morgan noted. “We know that this unsub has been in Y/N’s house, which means he definitely sees the increased police presence. Maybe he realizes it won’t be as easy to get to her now?”

For the first time since they had been in the morgue, Spencer took a closer look at the body. He had seen plenty of victims in much worse shape than this, but it was different this time. This could easily be Spencer in just a few days.

“Or maybe it’s not overkill at all. Maybe it’s another message.” Spencer grabbed one of your journals from out of his messenger bag, flipping through it. “Okay, right here. ‘He kissed my body as if he was saying goodbye.’ These stab wounds could be a reference to that.”

Hotch grabbed the journal out of Spencer’s hand, him and Morgan reading over the passage. “That would be the second reference this unsub has made to poems about the end of their relationship with Y/N. I bet that if we looked closer, the other two would also have some reference to a breakup.”

Morgan folded his arms across his chest, obviously unconvinced. “So what, now we’re dealing with an unsub who wants to avenge her heartbreak? To show that he wouldn’t do that?”

As if to answer his question, Morgan’s phone rang. “Babygirl, tell me you have something,” he asked, putting it on speaker.

Garcia’s laugh chimed through the receiver. “You ask me that everytime, and as much as I love hearing your voice, do you think I’d be calling you with no news? So, I checked the list of people who had access to Y/N’s house, and they all showed up clean, nothing in their records would suggest they were a killer. The closest I got to any sort of criminal activity was a few parking and speeding tickets, but those were all paid on time.”

“Did you check on tabloids about her like I asked? Any dating history we may not know about?” Hotch asked.

“Of course I did. There weren’t many articles about her or her dating life, she seemed pretty private. There were a few rumors of other boyfriends, but so far all of those look like they were just rumors. But get this, the first news story to break about any of her relationships were all written by the same journalist, Daniel Fry. He’s like the go-to guy for all things Y/N related.  _ And _ all of the photos attached to the articles were also taken by him, so he wasn’t buying them from the paparazzi,” Garcia explained.

Spencer frowned, trying to rack his brain for any recollection of a guy named Daniel, but nothing came up. Garcia continued. “Obviously, this was weird, so I dug deeper into this guy’s life. Turns out, Daniel had booked a last minute plane ticket to New York, and he paid a lot of money to get this specific flight. The flight is scheduled to leave on Friday, which is three days away.”

“What’s so special about him taking a weekend trip?” Morgan asked.

“This guy has never left Los Angeles. And do you know who else has a plane ticket to New York that leaves in three days? If you guessed Y/N, you’re very correct. Her and her friend Blake, whom you have already questioned, booked a trip to New York two weeks ago.”

Hotch looked at the other two agents in the room with him. “That’s right when the killings started. New York could be his endgame. We need to get him in for questioning. Garcia, do you know where Daniel Fry is now?”

JJ, who was in the room with Garcia, walked over to Garcia’s makeshift desk to speak into the phone. “He’s right outside. He’s one of the journalists who have been camping outside of the house trying to get constant coverage of the investigation. Do you want me to call Rossi and Prentiss to come pick him up?”

“Yes, do that. Try to keep it as discreet as possible, we don’t want anybody thinking this is solved just yet,” Hotch ordered. “We’re going to need to talk to Y/N again as well, maybe she noticed him without even realizing it.”

“I don’t think she’s going to be much help right now,” JJ admitted, looking out the door of the office. “She’s pretty shaken up by this whole thing and she’s about three drinks in already. We might have to wait until she sobers up.”

Spencer frowned at that news. He knew that you weren’t a big drinker, so there had to be something more than just fear to get her to react like that. He made a mental note to check on you the next time he was on security duty.

“Uh, guys…” Garcia started, and they could hear the sound of her nails rapidly hitting the keys of her laptop. “There’s one more thing that’s kind of weird. The trip to New York that Y/N is taking… Besides the initial plane ticket, there is no record that they’ll be in New York. No return flight, no hotel room booked, not even a rental car or metro ticket. Neither of them own any properties in the area either. It’s like they’re going to just vanish once they get there.”

Morgan, Hotch, and Spencer all shared eye contact, a silent conversation happening within seconds. There was something more going on, they just didn’t know what it was yet. “Okay, thanks, baby girl. Tell Prentiss and Rossi we’ll meet them at the station.”

Garcia grinned, not taking her eyes off her screen. “Will do. And I will keep digging.”

\---

The interrogation with Daniel Fry hadn’t gotten out much information, but the team decided to hold him at the station for the full 72 hours. Wanting to keep Garcia and JJ in the loop, Hotch decided that they would debrief at Y/N’s house before going back to their hotel rooms and getting a good night’s sleep, minus Morgan who would be your security for the night.

Spencer was in the back seat of the SUV, still lost in his thoughts. Morgan and Prentiss both wanted to ask him what was on his mind, but they figured it was the case getting to his head. There was something about that New York trip that had to fit in with the case, but for the first time, Spencer was just as clueless as the rest of the team. The last time Y/N had been to New York was your birthday, and that wasn’t exactly a happy time for you.

_ Spencer stepped into an empty office, dialing your number quickly. Guilt was building up inside of him, but he really didn’t have a choice. You answered the phone quickly, the music from the party drowning out your voice. _

_ “Spencer, my love,” you said dreamily. “Are you on your way?” _

_ You had decided to have your birthday party in New York, that way Spencer could be there for it. It was only a short train ride away, and you knew that he traditionally had weekends off. It seemed like it was meant to be. _

_ “Yeah, about that…” Spencer started, and he didn’t need to say anything else. He knew that you knew. The music slowly got softer as you walked into an empty room so that the two of you could have an actual conversation.  _

_ “Uh-oh,” you whispered, trying to hide your disappointment, but it didn’t take a profiler for it to be obvious. “Didn’t you guys just get back from a different case? You texted me two hours ago that you were on the plane ride home?” _

_ The sound of your voice was almost enough for Spencer to go up to Hotch and tell him that he couldn’t join the team on this case, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. “I know. But on the way back, we got a call about a child abduction and-” _

_ “And you only have 24 hours.” You finished the sentence for him. You knew that Spencer was an integral part of the team, and you knew that a child’s life was more important than your birthday party. But that didn’t make the situation suck any less. “I get it. You have a job to do.” _

_ Spencer frowned to himself. “I’m really sorry, Y/N… But hey, the case is in Fresno. I can stay in California after and meet you at your place and I promise I’ll make it up to you.” _

_ You sighed and sat down on the floor, your head leaning back against the door. “You don’t have to apologize,” you told him, and you really were telling the truth. “And you don’t have to make anything up to me. You’re going to be exhausted and burnt out by the end of this case because I know you won’t be sleeping. Just… get home safe, okay?” _

_ “I will,” Spencer muttered, staring at his shoes. “Happy birthday. I love you.” _

_ “I know,” you whispered. And then you hung up. _

Spencer was so lost in his memory that he hadn’t even realized they had made it back to Y/N’s house. The team got in and did a quick run-through of everything they knew and what they didn’t know. Then, before they could leave, Spencer caught sight of Y/N, peeking her head out of the doorway of her room and signaling for him to come talk to her. “Uh... give me a minute,” Spencer muttered. “I’m going to go check on something real quick.”

The team watched Spencer walk up the staircase, and it was Garcia who broke the silence. “Oh good,” she said nervously, Y/N’s laptop clutched to her chest. “I don’t have to email this to you all. Uh, I found something that I think you all should see.”

Hotch crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows scrunched together. “Why didn’t you show this to us when Reid was here?”

Garcia hurriedly set up the laptop. “Sir, I think it’s best if you all watch this first without him. So I was looking for the elusive 5th boyfriend and when I couldn’t find anything in her photos or texts, I thought ‘where else would I be able to find out more?’. That led me to her demos folder to see if she wrote any names or identifying information in her songs and there is a video of the 5th boyfriend and it- Well, I’ll let you all watch.”

Garcia pressed play on the video, and it started with just you on the screen, playing the piano and singing along. It wasn’t a song that anybody on the team recognized, which meant it was most likely unreleased, but it was romantic. Every once in a while, you would look up to gaze at a person behind the camera, and a smile would play on the corner of your lips. You looked happy and carefree.

Suddenly, you stopped playing, and a laugh escaped your lips. “You know, when these artists ask me for a demo recording, they usually don’t want it with my lover draped over my piano like the singer in a smokey jazz club.” Her voice was light and teasing. 

The second person said something, but it was hard to make out the voice. You just replied with a smirk and a “Who said this song was about you, anyways?”

There was a slight rustling on the other side of the camera and your eyes followed the other person as their lower half came into frame. Then he spoke again, and the voice made everybody watching tense up. 

“Well seeing as the working title is ‘Spencer’s Song’, I think it’s safe to make that assumption.” You leaned your head back as Spencer pressed a kiss to your forehead before sitting on the piano bench next to you. The team watched in disbelief. The Spencer in this video exuded an air of confidence that they hadn’t seen from him in years. He seemed to be more relaxed and calm- almost like he was a normal person who hadn’t seen everything he’s seen. His tie was loose and his cardigan was hanging on the coat hook.

You turned so that you were straddling the piano bench and leaned in closer to Spencer. “How observant of you,” you mused. You leaned forward so that your lips were just brushing against Spencer’s. “But that doesn’t tell me if you liked it.”

Spencer put his arm around your waist and pulled you in close to him. “I really loved it,” he told you. “Sometimes, when you show me the things you write, I feel like… I don’t know, that I don’t deserve it.”

You reached your hand out and cupped his cheek, and he leaned into your touch. “Of course you do, Spencer. Writing about you is the easiest job I’ve ever had.”

Spencer kissed you, and the team all looked around nervously at each other. That wasn’t the kiss of two people who were just casually dating. It was the kiss of two people who were head over heels in love with each other. So how could they not know?

Back to the video, Spencer’s phone rang and the two of you slowly pulled away. He kept his eyes on you the whole time he answered his phone. “Dr. Reid,” he answered, and it was silent for a few seconds. “Got it. I will be there in a few.” He hung up his phone and looked back at you. “That was Hotch. They found another body.”

You pouted slightly but dropped the hand that was on Spencer’s face. “These serial killers have terrible timing, you know that?” you teased.

“You’re right, I will talk to them about that. Ask them to be more considerate,” Spencer laughed. He reached for his cardigan but was stopped by your hand snatching it first. “I kind of need that?”

You smirked and wrapped it around your shoulders. “You can get it back when you finish the case and come home safely. I can meet you back in Virginia?”

Spencer pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Fine. But if you keep holding my clothes hostage, I’m not going to have any left.”

“I’d be okay with that, but fine I will return all but a few. I’ll meet you at your place. Be safe, make good choices. I love you.” You smiled as he repeated the sentiment back and it wasn’t until he left that you noticed your camera was still on. You quickly went to turn it off.

Once the video was done, the BAU team stood in silence for a few tense moments, trying to process what they just watched. Spencer was the 5th boyfriend- the one they had been digging and digging to try and figure out. He was there the whole time.

Hotch was the first to break the silence. “Garcia, what is the date on that video?”

Garcia, who had been frozen watching the team’s reactions, immediately jumped into action. “Uh, it looks like it was recorded five months ago, sir.”

Morgan was staring at the computer, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why the hell wouldn’t he tell us this? That means he’s the next target, and he knew that.”

Prentiss looked up the staircase to where Spencer had gone. “More important question,” she muttered, putting her hand on her gun. “Is why hasn’t Spencer come back down yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks, fluff, and tension, oh my!
> 
> Don't worry folx, it's going to get sadder before it gets better, just you wait.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened between Spencer and you while the team found out about your secret?

You weren’t ever a big drinker. On special occasions, you would have a drink or two, but you liked being able to be in control of yourself. But everything was getting to be too much and you desperately needed something-  _ anything- _ to help make this whole mess of a situation any less painful. Nothing made sense anymore, and the only thing that you knew to be true at the moment was that you were still hopelessly in love with Spencer Reid, and that love you have for him is putting him in danger.

_ Oh, how the tables turn, _ you thought, thinking back to your last argument with him. You wondered if all FBI agents had that argument with their partners- “I’m putting you in danger, this is too hard on both of us, we can’t do this”- or if Spencer was just always that high minded and heavy handed. Maybe he wouldn’t listen to you, but you knew you had to talk to him as soon as possible. You had to tell him before it was too late.

The team was out in the field most of the day but you got lucky- they came back that night to debrief. You were able to catch Spencer’s attention before he left for the night. You were peaking out of your bedroom and as soon as you made eye contact, you gestured for him to come to you. Without taking his eyes off you, you heard him tell the team: “Uh... give me a minute? I’m going to go check on something real quick,” and he started to make his way towards you before any of them even had time to answer. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, and when he saw your red-tinged eyes and the wine bottle clutched in your hand, he immediately closed the door. “Are you okay?”

Now that you had Spencer with you, you idly considered smashing the wine bottle, just so you could break something. You were tired of drinking anyways. You could have watched the liquid spread across the floor and make the room smell sickly sweet for days. And that way every time Spencer saw a wine bottle, he would be haunted by the thought of you, the way he had been haunting your dreams for the past four months. But the second the glass broke, you would have the entire BAU in your room, guns drawn, and that would surely really ruin the moment.

You took a shaky breath. “I have been… obsessively reading and rereading everything I have ever written about you. And it’s a lot. I have almost a year and a half worth of poems and songs, all about you. And I…” Your breath caught in your throat. Honestly, it was amazing you had any more tears left, but there they were, stinging your eyes and threatening to fall at any moment. “And I’m circling every time I mention any physical part of you because I am terrified of what happens if he gets to you. This monster is going to tear you apart if he gets the chance and it’ll be because of what I wrote.”

Spencer’s face softened at your confession, and he took your free hand into his. “Y/N…” he breathed, and hearing your name come out of his mouth made you unnaturally angry. It wasn’t the same anymore. It used to sound like waves on the beach during sunrise and the quiet murmurs of libraries. But it had been said too much in conjunction with “murder” and “unsub”. It was tainted.

“He’s not going to get me,” Spencer continued, and it sounded so close to something like a promise. “It’s going to take a lot more than a deluded stalker to kill me.” Spencer chuckled in an attempt to give you some comfort, and oh that smile. It was like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds after weeks of rain, and you practically melted. He looked happy. It had been so long since you had seen him be happy. You wanted him to keep being happy. You wanted him to keep looking at you. You wanted to see if his skin was as warm as it looked, so you stepped forward to try and find out. Spencer stepped away, lips twitching to the side. 

“Spencer,” you whispered, and you immediately brought the wine bottle up to your lips to try and drown the taste of his name. It tasted like venom. “I’ve missed you.”

Spencer stared at you and dropped the hand you were holding. It still felt warm. “No you haven’t,” he promised, but it was empty. “Your emotions are running on high, which means your body is creating so much extra adrenaline. That combined with the bottle of wine you’ve almost finished... You’re not thinking straight, and that was just a result of your own fears. It’s your body’s way of going into survival mode. You don’t want this.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and squeezed the neck of the wine bottle. You wished it was his neck you were holding on to, and you tried to convince yourself that it was out of anger, not just because you wanted to touch him again- to feel his skin against yours. “Don’t fucking profile me. You don’t know what I want,” you hissed. Then you softened. “I want  _ you.  _ Don’t you see that? It’s you.”  Your freehand gripped his cardigan and you stared at his lips before meeting his eyes. There was something in there that you couldn’t quite place.  _ Figures _ . You’ve never been able to read Spencer; he’s always been so damn secretive. Spencer looked away. “It’s always been you, Spencer Reid,” you pressed.

You pulled him in by his cardigan and kissed him. You tugged at the fibers of his lips with your teeth. It was raw and messy and his lips were so soft- just as soft as they were when you first kissed him. All reservations pushed aside, Spencer gripped the side of your face with his hands and pulled you in closer, causing you to drop the bottle on the ground.  _ Good _ . His fingers gripped your hair tightly, and you let out a soft moan. This was the reaction you needed from you. You needed him to need you.

But just as quickly as it started, Spencer detached his lips from you and you let out a whine of complaint. “Y/N, no,” Spencer said firmly, but it was as if he was trying to convince himself. You rolled your eyes.

“ _ Spencer, yes,”  _ you mocked. Couldn’t he see? You two were happy. You were going to be okay. Everything was forgiven. “It’s fine,” you breathed, but you stumbled over your words like cracks in a sidewalk. “It’s us. We can have that again.”

He whispered “us” back to you like it meant “amen” and soon found his lips reattached to your neck. Just like old times. He was soft and careful and you hated it. With everything going on, you wanted to feel  _ something _ . You wanted electricity. You wanted him to leave marks on you so you could have some memory of this in the morning. You kept repeating his name, a desperate prayer for something more than you were getting. You dug your nails into his chest, pulling him closer; close enough to erase all the lonely nights you had spent. Close enough that he would never leave you again.

Then he was gone again, leaving you standing pathetically five steps away from him. Spencer was studying the scene in front of him as if it were one of his fucking crime scenes. As if he was only now noticing the mess you both had made. Your eyes were threatening to close and you were swaying back and forth. The wine, now long forgotten, was spilling onto both yours and Spencer’s feet. “We’re not doing this,” he chided, but there lacked any heat behind those words.

“Why not?” you pouted teasingly, and you batted your eyelashes at him, the way you used to. The way that would make him smile in public and shudder in private. The way that used to make him whisper all the dirty things he was going to do to you in your ear. Now it just made him angry.

“Because you are going to regret this in the morning, and I have a job to do,” he said, his voice rough and full of panic. “I can’t do that to you, Y/N. It’s going to make things messy.”

You took two steps towards him and Spencer took three backwards until he was pressed against the wall. “No, I won’t,” you practically purred. “It’s going to feel so good. Right now. It’ll be just like old times. I want this. I  _ need _ this.”

Shivers ran down Spencer’s spine, but he covered it with a groan of annoyance. He bent down to start picking up the shards of broken glass. “You’re drunk. You’re scared and you’re being asked to take on a lot of emotional labor in a short amount of time. You’re trying to balance feelings that you probably have never had to deal with before. You’re working through guilt even though you have nothing to feel guilty for. And you’re still hurt by the breakup, so you’re taking it out on me. You need to get some rest,” he said matter-of-factly as if he was talking to a child. He used his FBI voice, the one he used to force an unsub to confess, and the one he used to remind you that he was older and smarter. He always loved being the smartest person in the room. He thought it would help him save you.

It just infuriated you.

You clenched your jaw and he clenched his fists, only to gasp in pain as the glass ripped through his palm. Spencer dropped the pieces of the bottle back onto the carpet, blood mixing with the wine. You remembered what your mom always told you:  _ Broken things can be fixed. It’s when they’re shattered that you have to worry _ . You had no clue what the fuck this was anymore.

“Fuck, Spencer. Why do you always feel the need to profile me?” you choked out, jabbing your finger in Spencer’s direction. “I’m not some unsub that you need to diagnose and figure out every single one of my fucking movements! And you don’t get to make decisions for me anymore, I’m done with that,” you spat, and your eyes burned with tears. You refused to cry.

Spencer’s eyes bounced around the room, looking anywhere you weren’t. “Is that what this is about, Y/N? Are we really going to rehash this right now?” He sighed as if he had better things to do than to listen to you. Maybe he did. “My  _ job _ is to profile people and to work victimology. And for this case, whether you like it or not, you’re a victim. So yes, I’m going to profile you. To keep you safe.”

You threw your hands up in mock defeat. “You got me there,” you told him sarcastically. “Wow, thank you for educating me on that. Now how are you going to profile yourself, huh? You’re lucky number 5 on this guy’s list, so your team must be profiling you as well. What are they saying?” His blinking became more exaggerated, which is how you know you hit a nerve.  _ Good _ . The last fight you two had, you never got a chance to tell him what was really on your mind. But now, nothing was going to stop you. “Oh wait, that’s right. You’re not going to tell them anything. Are you scared of getting in trouble with Hotch? Or are you embarrassed? What, am I not smart enough for you?”

Spencer frowned, getting increasingly angry. “I am making the decisions that I think are best for your safety and for the safety of the team. Right now, you are acting out because of fear, and you feel trapped. Trauma and grief manifest themselves in many different ways, and you are just on the anger portion of it all. That’s not even profiling, this is all Psych 101 and a basic understanding of fight or flight.” He said it sold coldly, so professionally, and every word was laced with the threat of him leaving.  _ Again _ .

You laughed maniacally like this was all just a prank and not your worst nightmare coming true. “You see, this is your problem,  _ Doctor _ Reid.” You made sure to put extra venom on the word ‘doctor’. “You think that just because you can profile people, that you actually know them. You take a scientific understanding of a person and call it love. You want to be a good friend and good boyfriend and you do that by making everybody else’s decisions for them. You think you know what everybody else wants and secretly think we’re all too stupid and ignorant to find out ourselves.” You heard your voice raise to a nearly hysterical pitch because,  _ GOD _ , he still wouldn’t look at you.

“And I think that you are an insecure little boy who just has to be introduced as ‘Dr. Reid’ not because of your age, but because you feel the need to separate yourself from all of your other team members, to prove that you’re the smartest one there. Because even with all of your degrees, you are still  _ just _ an FBI agent, and that’s sometimes not enough for you. You think that your academic achievements are all you have and you think that the only reason people like you is because you impress them. You firmly believe that people only keep you around because you’re intelligent, so anytime somebody actually wants to stay and build a life- a  _ home _ \- with you, you push them away.” 

Spencer was staring at the wine spilled on the floor, his shoulders hunched. But you weren’t done just yet. You just wanted him to look at you again. “Do you know how I profile you, Spencer? You’re  _ terrified _ . You’re terrified of getting hurt again. You’re terrified of your team treating you differently once they find out about us. And I think deep down, you’re terrified of losing me. Come on, Dr. Reid. How many stalking victims end up getting murdered by their stalkers, huh? I know you know the statistics. How likely is it that I’m going to get killed by the end of this? You leaving didn’t do  _ shit _ to protect me.”

That got his attention. He stared at you like a kicked puppy, and you realized how much your words hurt him. It made you sick to your stomach. Suddenly, you didn’t want him looking at you anymore. Not like that. 

His gaze steeled, and once again, he was back to Dr. Reid of the FBI. Whatever iron walls he had went straight back up, and you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to tear these ones down. “This is exactly why we had to break up,” he reminded you. “You’re in danger, and I might not be able to do anything about it. And at least I’m here, working the case on this one. If some serial killer came after you while I was in Quantico and you were out here, I’d never be the same. I saw what happened to Haley, and I didn’t want that to happen to you.”

You shook your head, and you could start to feel the wine coming back up. “For a genius, you really are dense sometimes. This person was going to come after me either way, you just  _ happened _ to be in the FBI. This has nothing to do with you. If anything, you being near me  _ is _ protecting me right now. So what are you afraid of?”

That made Spencer snap. “I’m not afraid of anything,” he hissed, his voice dropping dangerously low. “And don’t act like I just walked out on you because I suddenly hated you. You know that’s not true. You  _ know _ I wanted to stay. But how much longer were we going to pretend that the endless airplane rides and canceled plans weren’t running us into the fucking ground? You’ve written about it and you’ve told me about it- all you’ve ever wanted was a stable home. We couldn’t give that to each other. I saw that so I took action."

You stomped your foot on the floor out of frustration, not even caring that it looked like you were throwing a temper tantrum. Maybe you should and that would get him to listen. “But that wasn’t your decision to make, Spencer!” but even as you said it, you knew he was right. The year you had with him was special and the stuff of myths, but it had to be fit into two unpredictable schedules. At any moment, either one of you could be whisked away for work. And that was no way to build a future together. But you weren’t going to let him win this argument. Not this time. “JJ and Will did it? Sometimes, it all worked out perfectly and we had a taste of that.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do with sometimes?” he said, sounding sad, annoyed, tired, and lonely somehow all at once.

You were spared having to answer when Prentiss burst into the room, JJ and Morgan behind her, all three with their guns drawn. Their eyes scanned the scene quickly, trying to fit the pieces together as quickly as possible, but it was obvious they were coming up blank. You realized that they must have heard the commotion and thought that the unsub had broken in.

“What the hell happened here?” Morgan asked, practically yelling. The three agents put away their guns but stayed on high alert. 

Your shoulders slumped defeatedly as you turned away from Spencer, who looked just as drained as you felt. “Agent Reid came to check on me because he knew that I was really shaken up by today,” you lied to Morgan, putting an emphasis on the ‘agent’. You didn’t want to refer to him as ‘doctor’. “And I’ve been drinking, so I accidentally dropped my wine bottle. We’re all fine here.”

JJ frowned and put a hand on your shoulder, but her eyes were locked on Spencer the entire time. The agents definitely didn’t miss Spencer’s bleeding palm, but it wasn’t a deep cut and it had stopped by now. “Do you need one of us to stay with you?” she asked.

You shook your head and your voice cracked. “No. I want to be alone,” you begged, staring straight at Spencer. “ _ Please _ . Leave.”  And for some reason, Spencer chose that moment, out of every other moment, to let you decide what you wanted, and it made you both sick.

Spencer practically stormed out of the room, with the other three agents slowly trickling out of your room, still trying to put together the pieces of what happened. Spencer refused to make eye contact with the rest of the BAU as he walked downstairs, making a beeline to the SUVs, but Hotch stopped him right in front of the front door. 

“We need to talk,” Hotch told him, his voice dangerously calm.

Spencer bit back a groan of frustration. “Yes sir?”

Hotch lowered his voice so that only he and Spencer could hear him, but that definitely wasn’t going to stop the rest of the BAU from trying to listen in. “When did you plan on informing us about your previous relationship with Y/N?”

Spencer closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if he was trying to will this whole situation away; As if he was going to open his eyes and they were all going to be back at the BAU before any of this ever happened. He knew that it would do him no good to try and defend himself. Hotch knew, which meant the entire team knew. “How did you find out?” Spencer choked out.

“Garcia. Although we shouldn’t have found out from Garcia, we should have found out from you. So I am going to ask you again- When did you plan on informing us about your previous relationship with Y/N?” Hotch’s voice was steely cold, and somehow that was worse. Spencer wished that Hotch would just yell at him instead of going all ‘disappointed dad’.

Spencer opened and closed his mouth, unable to truthfully answer Hotch’s question. “I was- I didn’t- I-”

Hotch cut him off. “Do you realize what you risked by keeping this a secret?”

“Yes, sir, I do.” Simpler was better for this. Spencer was vaguely aware of the rest of the team silently grabbing their files. The tension in the air was suffocating. 

Hotch put his hands on his hips, his eyebrows furrowing even more. “I don’t think you do, Dr. Reid. Not only did you compromise the validity and integrity of this team, but you put everybody here at risk, especially yourself. What were you planning on doing when we apprehended the unsub? Who is to say that he wouldn’t risk his own life to take yours?”

Spencer pressed his lips into a thin line, trying desperately to bite his tongue. He had done enough arguing for the day, and the last thing he wanted to do was argue with his own team. “I trust the profile. The unsub wants to see the life fade from his victims, he won’t just take a desperate kill shot. And maybe having me on this case is the best thing. I could distract him enough for the rest of the team to take him out? Hotch, if I’m the one he wants, we could use that to our advantage.”

Hotch took a deep breath, his eyes burning into Spencer’s. “We could have used that to our advantage from the very beginning. Maybe then we could have got this guy before another person died. You’re staying on this case, but you won’t be going into the field with us. It's too dangerous. Once this is over and we’re back in Quantico, we’re going to discuss your actions further.”

Spencer’s resolve fell. “Hotch…” he said dejectedly, but Hotch had already made his way out the door. The rest of the team brushed past Spencer as they made their way to the SUVs, either throwing him a sympathetic glance or patting him on the shoulder. Somehow, that made Spencer feel worse.

JJ was the last to leave, placing her hand on his arm. “Spence, you okay?” she asked. She looked at him with worry in her eyes as the situation upstairs slowly started to make more sense.

Spencer raised his eyebrows quickly. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he told her, his words coming out impossibly fast.

JJ nodded understandingly, giving his arm a quick rub. “I get it. Don’t let Hotch get to you, he’s just worried about you. We all are. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

Spencer pulled back from her touch and started making his way outside. “I don’t need everybody to worry about me, I know how to do my job.”

JJ sighed and followed him out the door. “We all know that, Spence. Look, just… whenever you’re ready to talk, we’re all here.” Spencer sped up his pace and slid into one of the SUVs to avoid having to answer JJ, and it wasn’t lost on her that Spencer chose the SUV that Hotch wasn’t in. Tomorrow would be an interesting day, to say the least.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hah, goteem. You knew I had to add some ~angst~ before we got to the unsub.


	8. Chapter 8

You woke up the next morning feeling like your skull was going to split in two, and the sunlight streaming into your window didn’t help your hangover. You sat up and saw the wine-stained rug, and all of the memories came back from last night. God, how could you have been so  _ stupid?  _ You completely made a fool of yourself in front of the entire BAU and probably ruined any chance you had of reconciliation with Spencer. Well, there was nothing you could do about it now. You dragged yourself out of bed to get ready for the rest of the day. Once you got changed and went through your morning routine, you walked downstairs into the kitchen, desperate for coffee and something greasy for breakfast.

As soon as you got to the kitchen, you started up your espresso machine and pulled out all of the ingredients to make a bagel sandwich, not caring if it was healthy. You could almost hear the advice Spencer would give you-  _ You know, contrary to popular belief, greasy foods are actually more likely to make your hangover worse since it upsets your digestive system even more. If you were trying to slow the absorption of alcohol to lessen the hangover, you should eat greasy food before you start drinking. Although there are studies to show that slowing the absorption of alcohol can actually lead to consuming more alcohol than originally planned, leaving you drunker at the end of the night... _

You threw two more pieces of bacon onto the skillet just for good measure.

You let yourself zone out, listening to the sizzle of breakfast and enjoying the quiet time that you had so desperately missed. But like all good things, that silence came to an end. Somebody cleared their throat, effectively snapping you back to reality.

Morgan was leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes studying you. You shifted uncomfortably; You had gotten used to the BAU team constantly profiling you, but this felt different. It was personal. “Rough night?” he asked.

You placed your bagel into the toaster, avoiding Morgan’s gaze. “That obvious?” you asked, trying to add humor into your voice. You weren’t sure how effective it was. “I didn’t realize your team had gotten here already.”

Morgan tilted his head to the side ever so slightly. “They haven’t yet, I just haven’t left. I was your security detail last night. Did you honestly think we were going to leave you drunk and alone?”

You winced at his tone. There was an edge to it, almost accusatory. “Right… Would you like something for breakfast? Coffee? I made way too much. ” Morgan politely declined your offer, and you were suddenly in a hurry to get out of the kitchen. He was hardcore profiling you. You quickly threw together your breakfast and grabbed your coffee. You could do the dishes later. “Well, I will be having my breakfast on the back patio.”

“Can I join you?” he asked, but you knew that he probably wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Of course,” you told him, already making your way to your backyard. He followed in your footsteps and you could feel his eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. Once you got outside, you took a seat on one of your garden chairs, placing your breakfast and coffee on the adjacent table. Morgan chose to remain standing.

The two of you stayed in silence for a few minutes as you stared out into the horizon. The sun was just barely peeking out over the trees. “This is a really nice area,” Morgan finally said, but he looked lost in his thoughts.

You took a sip of your coffee. “Thank you. It’s probably my favorite place in the house,” you admitted. “I’m close enough to the beach that I can still smell the ocean and I get the ocean breeze. Sometimes, late at night, I can hear the waves crashing. Especially during a storm. I could sit out here for hours. It’s peaceful.”

For the first time that morning, you saw Morgan crack a hint of a smile. “Are you one of those California beach bums?”

You chuckled and shook your head. “No, not really. But my parents definitely were. They were the type of people who lived in a camper van and just drove up and down the coast, going wherever the universe told them to go.” You took a bite of your breakfast sandwich, watching Morgan out of your peripheral vision. “I guess being back here and by the beach reminds me of being with them.”

Morgan was watching you intently. You realized you hadn’t told anybody about your parents since… Well, since Spencer. “Did you live in the van with them?” he asked, concern evident in his face.

“Oh, god no,” you reassured. “No, once I got old enough to go to school, my mom put her foot down. Said we had to settle down and let me live a somewhat normal life. So we got this little house right on Pismo Beach and lived there for a few years. It was nice. We would set up bonfires and camp outside on the sand when it was warm. But after a few years, my dad decided that he hated domestic life and wanted to go back to living on his own terms and just… left.”

You shrugged and readjusted your sitting position. “It was kind of a family decision. We could have forced my dad to stay and let him grow resentful or… let him go. And still have him love us. My mom was better about settling down for me, but it wasn’t for her. We moved a lot growing up. By the time I had reached high school, we had moved nine different times. I never really got to settle down anywhere.”

Morgan listened to your story, nodding empathetically when needed. “Always on the move, having to keep in touch with friends in a different city… I guess that explains how you and Reid were able to do the long distance thing so well.”

That caught your attention. Your face snapped up to look at Morgan and you sucked your teeth. “Spencer told you.” It wasn’t a question.

Morgan shook his head, and there was hurt in his eyes. “No, he didn’t. We found out from a video on your computer last night. Information that we asked you and you withheld from us.”

You grimaced and set down your coffee mug, suddenly not very hungry. “I’m sorry, I just-”

Morgan cut you off, but he seemed to be talking more to himself than to you. “We’ve been two steps behind this unsub this entire time when we should have had the upper hand. And what I don’t understand is why you and Reid felt the need to keep this a secret from us.”

You didn’t have to be a profiler to get the underlying question Morgan was asking.  _ Why didn’t Spencer trust me? _ You brought your knees up to your chest. “I can’t speak for Spencer, but now that the cat’s out of the bag… I’d be happy to answer any questions you have. Truthfully, this time.” It was a pathetic attempt at extending an olive branch, but it seemed to work.

Morgan took advantage of the opportunity; the questions had obviously been weighing on his mind. He asked you rapid-fire questions, not giving you a chance to think about any of your answers. “How long did you two date?”

“Twelve months and 17 days.”

“When did you break up?”

“Four months ago.”

“How’d you meet?”

“On an airplane.”

“Why didn’t he tell us about you?”

You hesitated. “When we started dating or when the investigation started?”

Morgan thought about it for a second, deciding whether he wanted to ask for his own personal knowledge or for the knowledge of the case. “Why didn’t he tell us when you started dating? A year is a long time to keep a secret relationship.”

You shrugged and hugged your knees. “Agent Morgan...” you began. “When Spencer and I started dating, we knew it was going to be hard. We also knew that between my career and the entire BAU, we would never get any sort of privacy. Every part of our relationship would be discovered and scrutinized. Nothing would be sacred. I’m sure you understand that. There are no secrets in the BAU, and there are definitely no secrets in Los Angeles. And… I think we used the secret as an insurance policy. If the whole thing failed then… Nobody would have to know.” The words shocked you as soon as you said them, mostly because you had never realized that’s how you felt. You had called Spencer out for being afraid last night, but maybe that was just you projecting.

Morgan nodded slowly, taking in each and every word. “Well, that definitely worked. So what happened?”

You grimaced to yourself. “Short answer, we crashed and burned. Our lives were just pulling us apart, and it was like the more we tried to fix it, the worst it got.”

That answer obviously didn’t satisfy Morgan. “What’s the long answer?” he asked, and you could tell that this was for more than just the case. He wanted to know more about Spencer. He wanted to protect Spencer now when he couldn’t protect Spencer four months ago.

You pursed your lips and stared out into the horizon. “It was like two weeks worth of a whole slew of messes,” you admitted. “It started with us talking about taking the next steps and moving in together but neither of us was willing to relocate. He could never leave the BAU and I was finally putting down roots in Los Angeles. And then you all had a case the weekend of my birthday, which I know he felt guilty about not being there for. But it was fine, you know? I knew that it was always a possibility. But his guilt from that on top of the case you guys had… It was the child abduction in Fresno.”

Morgan let out a soft hum of understanding. “I remember that case. The police chief’s twelve-year-old daughter was abducted, tortured, and murdered. Some creep who the police chief had arrested had just gotten out and was looking for revenge. None of us were okay after that case.”

“Yeah, I heard,” you nodded. “Spencer stayed with me after that case and took it really personally. Started worrying about all the people he’s put in jail. And then it progressed to the fact that there wasn’t really a future in sight for us. Spencer was right when he said that we couldn’t make a home for each other when we were 3,000 miles away, and I knew it too. But he just… decided that without even asking me. I think I was scared that he just didn’t love me anymore. So we fought and it was messy and we broke it off. Now I know that he left  _ because _ he loved me and wanted me to be happy and be able to truly settle down.”

You laughed bitterly. You knew that you were word vomiting, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “I was terrified of the idea of moving again. I had moved around so much and LA was the place I had been the longest. And even here in LA, I’ve lived in a bunch of different places. Two months into my freshman year of college, I had to completely switch dorms because some drunk kid broke in and fell asleep in my bed while I was away for the weekend.”

Morgan sat up at your last sentence, trying to keep his expression neutral, but you could almost see the lightbulb going off. “Somebody broke into your dorm?”

You frowned, getting more and more concerned. “Uh… yeah. But it wasn’t like a big thing. The only reason they moved me was because of protocol and liability issues. Does that mean something?” you asked, but Morgan was already on the phone.

Luckily, he kept it on speakerphone, and you heard Penelope on the other end. “I was wondering when you’d request my services,” she chimed.

Morgan stood up from his seat. “Hey baby girl, I need you to look into Y/N’s college housing records. Focus on her freshman year.”

The clicking of Penelope’s nails on the keyboard was deafening. You really hadn’t thought about your dorm break in since it had happened. The dorms were old and there was every likelihood that you had just forgotten to lock your door; every freshman did that at one point. “Okay, got it. According to the incident report, she claimed that somebody had slept in her bed while she was away for the weekend, but school security couldn’t find any evidence of a break in. There were a few missing photos of hers, though. Other than that… they didn’t do much of an investigation. The school transferred her to a new building, which her friend Blake was the RA for. I’m guessing that’s how they met. And… get this. Not only was Blake the RA on duty the weekend of the break in, but he was also the one who filled out her transfer paperwork.”

Morgan nodded as if this confirmed everything for him. “And RA’s have keys to every room. Which would explain why there were no signs of forced entry. And if he was in charge of Y/N’s transfer papers, then he wanted her to live in his building. Is the team on their way here?”

“They left 10 minutes ago and should be at the house anytime now,” Penelope confirmed.

You sat stunned, staring up at Morgan and feeling like you were going to vomit. You knew what he was insinuating, but what hurt the most was that Morgan didn’t sound surprised. “What does that have to do with anything?” you asked desperately, although you knew the answer.

Morgan turned to look at you, sympathy evident in his eyes. You knew that look. You had seen it in Spencer’s eyes plenty of times after cases. It meant that their theory was right when they really didn’t want it to be right. Morgan slowly sat back down in the chair next to you. “We have had our suspicions about Blake for a while,” he admitted. His words were carefully calculated so that he wouldn’t scare you. “But he’s smart. He lawyered up right away when we questioned him. There was no forensic evidence at any of the scenes. Not a shoe print, not even a handwriting match. We couldn’t formally charge him for anything. This changes things.”

You shook your head so fast that for a brief moment, you thought it would come off. You wanted to refute him, tell Morgan that he was wrong and that you didn’t hang out with anybody who could possibly be a serial killer. But you had seen the changes in your best friend the past couple of weeks. You had always attributed it to normal adults growing apart.

Your front door opening brought you out of your spiraling. “Morgan? Y/N?” Prentiss called.

Morgan stood up and called out to the team that the two of you were in the back. He walked back into the house and you followed him in a trance. Blake was a murderer. You had put your trust in a murderer. Your skin crawled at the thought of it. Once inside, you sat down at your kitchen table, staring at the stained wood. You could feel all of the eyes on you. The entire BAU team was staring at you and studying you, trying to figure you out. You weren’t just some stalking victim anymore, you were Spencer’s ex-girlfriend. Of course they’d be curious, but it didn’t make you any less uncomfortable.

Morgan quickly explained his new findings to the rest of the team, and none of them seemed shocked. “That’s probable cause enough,” Hotch said. “Okay, let’s head out. Reid, you’ll be staying here in case he comes after Y/N.”

Spencer looked like he wanted to argue- to say that he didn’t need to be in time out while everybody else on the team was making an arrest- but he knew that Hotch had a point. Having Spencer in the field would only add another variable, and they needed to be able to control the situation as much as possible. That meant keeping Spencer out of the way so they could focus on the arrest.

Spencer told the rest of the team that he would stay in contact with them and with that, they left the house to go find Blake, leaving you and Spencer alone together. A pang of guilt shot through you as you took in Spencer’s appearance. He obviously hadn’t slept last night, judging by the dark circles around his eyes. You couldn’t blame him- if you weren’t as drunk as you were last night, you also don’t think you would have been able to sleep.

The two of you stayed dangerously still and remained entirely silent. Spencer was only on the other side of the kitchen table, but he felt miles away. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head, and you took comfort in the fact that he was struggling to find words, too.

You decided to start simple. “Morgan told me the team found out about us,” you said trying to keep your voice light. “How much trouble did you get into?”

“Well I’m not out there with them, so…” Spencer snapped, but there was no real heat behind it. He softened. “Hotch said we’d talk about it more later, but he didn’t seem angry. Just concerned.”

You nodded and pursed your lips. “That’s good. How about the rest of the team? How did they take it?”

The corners of Spencer’s lips twitched up into a hint of a smile, and your heart swelled. “Once this is over, I am definitely going to get teased. I’m pretty sure Garcia is already looking for anything you wrote that could even be remotely about me.”

That made you smile, but there was a sadness behind it. “She won’t have to dig very hard,” you admitted. It went silent again for a few moments. This was uncharted territory for both of you. “Look, Spencer. I’m really sorry for what I said last night. And how I acted. It was uncalled for.”

Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. “I guess I didn’t realize you were still that angry at me.”

You laughed, but it was hollow. “Spencer… You thought that I said those things because I was angry at you? I- I practically threw myself at you,” you said incredulously. “I meant what I said last night.”

Spencer looked at you, his eyes narrowed in confusion. “When you said that I didn’t do anything to protect you? I know.” He looked so dejected, and you wanted to run your hands through his hair to comfort him, the way you would whenever he came back from a case.

You got up out of your seat and slowly walked towards him. Each step you took was careful, not wanting to ruin the moment. “No. Not that. You’ve done everything to protect me. I meant what I said when I said that I missed you and that it’s always been you. This house has felt like a goddamn funeral home since you left. It’s been empty.”

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat and he took two steps in your direction. You were close enough to him now that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Spencer was always so warm. “I’ve missed you, too,” he stuttered out. “More than I thought possible.”

You thought back to when you first met Spencer and you had one short plane ride to get his number. You knew then that you had a limited time frame so you had to make bold moves. Spencer would most likely be back east by tomorrow morning.  _ Time to make some bold moves again _ , you thought to yourself. “Then why did we waste so much time fighting and avoiding each other? We don’t have to walk away from each other this time. We could start all over from the beginning and see what happens this time.”

Spencer’s whiskey colored eyes meet your gaze, and it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time. He placed his hand on your arm and your whole body burned. His hand slowly moved down your arm until it was holding your hand. “What makes you think this time is going to be any different?” It wasn’t mean or cold when he said it. It was almost hopeful, like he was looking to you to have the answer. You knew that Spencer didn’t like the unknown, so asking him to take a leap like this was huge.

You briefly considered lying to him and telling him that  _ of course _ you knew it was going to be different. How could it not? And sure, you were hopeful that it was going to be different, but if the genius couldn’t figure it out, then nobody could. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But everybody knows about us now. We at least got past that roadblock already. And I just know that I would regret it for the rest of my life if we didn’t at least try.”

Spencer pulled you towards him and  _ finally _ kissed you like he meant it. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lifted you up so that you were sitting on the kitchen table. He deepened the kiss and you melted. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp lightly. You’ve become addicted to the taste of him. Spencer let his hands roam your body, and you felt like you were on fire.

You pulled away from the kiss to look at him, and for once you wish you were the one with the eidetic memory. His lips were swollen and his hair was a mess and he was glowing like the sun. He breathed out your name, and you knew that no other sound would ever compare. “Let’s do it,” he whispered, breathing heavily. “You and I, from the beginning. I want to be with you.”

You answered him by pulling him into another kiss, your fingers already working on undoing his tie. His fingers brushed the skin of your stomach directly under the hem of your shirt. It had been so long since he had held you last, and you were desperate to feel him again- all of him. 

A car horn forced the two of you to pull apart. It sounded like it was directly outside of your house. Spencer put his hand on his gun. The horn was continuous for three seconds… four seconds… five seconds… six seconds… seven…

Then everything happened all at once.

You heard the car crash first, metal crumpling into nothing. Then you heard the crack of wood and the sizzling of electricity. Before you could even register what was going on outside, the lights shut off and you and Spencer were immersed in darkness.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the hunt for Blake begins.
> 
> I'm so glad you all are liking this story so far! As of right now, I have about 3 more chapters planned for this specific plotline. However, I do have ideas to continue our journey with Spencer if you all would be interested in this turning into a longer story/series. Please let me know if that's something y'all would want!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: violence and a small reference to Reid's addiction at the very end

The car horn stopped as soon as the lights went out, but you could still hear it ringing in your ears. You slid off the dining room table and Spencer immediately moved in front of you, his gun pulled out of his holster.  _ How did he get that out so quickly? _ You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the lack of light.

“Stay behind me,” Spencer muttered, just barely loud enough for you to hear. His gun was by his side, ready to be brought up to firing position any second. Spencer with a gun in his hand was surreal. The logical part of you knew he carried- knew he had even shot people- but you never had to see it in action before now. You don’t think you’ll ever get that image out of your head.

A rustling noise outside your front door made Spencer bring his gun up. The adrenaline pumping through you was making everything go fast- too fast. You couldn’t keep up. “Y/N,” Spencer whispered, his eyes scanning the room. He had walked you backwards towards the nearest wall so that nobody could sneak up on the two of you. The wheels were turning in his brain- that brilliant brain of his.  _ This is all just an overreaction, _ you told yourself. “Here’s what I need you to do. Just stay calm for me. The car probably ran into a utility pole, but I have to go check it out, okay? But I need you to stay quiet.” You nodded vigorously, unable to form any words. “Good. Great.”

Spencer was speaking to you so softly that it made you want to burst into tears. This entire case, you hadn’t thought of yourself as a victim. People were  _ dead _ while you got to sit in your comfortable home with an FBI security detail; That’s not a victim. But you knew this voice that Spencer was using because it was the same voice he used to talk to victims right before the unsub got to them. “You’re doing great,” he reminded you. “I’m going to walk you to a room and you are going to lock yourself in there while I go see what’s going on outside. Don’t open the door unless it’s me or somebody else from my team, okay?”

You nodded again, still unable to formulate words. There was another rustling noise, this time coming from your backyard. Spencer put his gun up and slowly made his way towards the closest room- your guest room. You stayed behind him the whole time, desperately praying to anything and everything out there that the lights would turn back on soon. The two of you got to the room and Spencer quickly shut the door behind the two of you. He put his gun back down to his side, but it was anything but relaxed. “Stay here,” he told you, finally looking at you. His eyes shone with worry. “I’ll be back quickly.”

Spencer hesitated for a half a second, looking like he was having an internal debate, before leaving you alone in the room. “Be safe, make good choices,” you whispered to no one. You felt sick not being able to say it to him before- you  _ always _ told him that before he left for a case, without fail. Not saying it now just felt like a bad omen, like you were challenging the universe. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you quickly locked the door before retreating to the corner of the room.  _ It’s probably nothing _ , you reminded yourself.  _ It’s just basic surveillance. Blake wouldn’t be dumb enough to come to your house. It was just a normal car crash _ . That’s when you heard the gunshot.

You jumped and you shut your eyes, trying to regulate your breaths. The shot sounded like it had come from outside, but you didn’t hear anything else. No yelling for a medic, no scream of pain, and no return fire. That was probably the worst part. At least if there were multiple shots, that meant that somebody was still alive. A one and done shot was never good; it meant there was no reason to shoot again. It went quiet again, and all you could do was wait.

You weren’t sure how long you were waiting in the guest room- your adrenaline made it feel like it had been hours, but logically, you knew it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Your first thought was to call somebody-  _ anybody _ \- from the BAU and let them know what was happening, but your phone was still sitting on the kitchen table, useless. The silence was the worst part. You hated silence and had always done everything in your power to not be in silence- always having some background noise playing. But here you were, cornered and in the dark, unwilling to even breathe too heavily in fear that Blake would find you.

Finally, you heard footsteps. The hardwood creaked with every step the person took, and you knew it wasn’t Spencer. With the number of times you had watched Spencer walk away, you knew exactly what his footsteps sounded like.

“Knock, knock.”

Blake’s voice rang in your ears, and you could practically hear the smirk. It made you shake with anger. You shouldn’t be so afraid of this piece of shit you used to call your friend. But he did kill four people-  _ maybe five _ , your brain unhelpfully reminded you.

“What the  _ fuck _ did you do? Where’s Spencer?” you yelled. He already found you, so there was no use in being quiet now.

Blake laughed on the other side of the door, as if this was just a fun night out. He was so casual with every word he said, and each word was like a stab wound. “Y/N, no need to be like that. Come on out, I just wanna talk to you. You don’t have to be afraid of me, I’d never hurt you.”

“Where’s Spencer?” you asked again, gritting your teeth together.

Blake slammed his fist against the door in anger and you jumped back. “You can come out on your own or I can force my way in. Either way, you’re coming with me.” There was an edge to his voice, and it was like the final nail in the coffin- the Blake you knew was long gone. Or maybe he was always a psychopath, and you just never noticed. Either way, this was past the point of no return. 

You stayed silent. There was no way you were going to open the door for him, even if he was going to find a way in. Every second he was away from you was extra time for the BAU to get back to your house. Blake laughed, but it was insincere and cold, like he was trying to calm down his own anger. “Fuck it. I’ll let myself in.”

Your breathing matched your racing heart rate as you desperately watched the doorknob wiggle back and forth. You could hear the scraping of metal against metal and before too long, the door flung open. There stood Blake, knife in hand and blood running down the side of his face. He had a cut running across his cheek, and you let that thought comfort you for a fraction of a second. But then you saw his knuckles, bruised and bloodied. There was no sign of Spencer anywhere and you choked back a sob. You couldn’t let your mind go there right now.

“I think I might have broken your lock, I apologize,” Blake mused, his pupils blown. He licked his lips as if you were his prey and he was ready to pounce. “But really, anything less than a deadbolt is easy to pick. You should really consider getting better security. Wouldn’t want any creeps coming in.” Blake stalked towards you, never even blinking. Something inside him had snapped and you knew it. Your breathing came out short and choppy and you couldn’t do anything except let Blake back you into the corner of the room. There was no way you’d be able to outrun him, not with him in the doorway with a knife. You could only hope that the team was right in their profile and that Blake  _ wouldn’t  _ hurt you.

“You crashed the car,” you told him, hoping it would keep him away from you for longer. “You did it on purpose to get Spencer away from me.”

Blake shrugged, a smug grin covering his face. “I didn’t know Spencer was with you. That was a lucky surprise. But yeah, that was me. A brick on the gas pedal does the trick perfectly.”

“What are you going to do to me?” you asked, your voice cracking. You were crying at this point, much to your chagrin. You wanted to be strong, maybe spit in his face or knee him in the crotch or  _ something _ , but the fear was overtaking your body. Apparently, bravery went out the window when you had a knife pressed against your stomach.

However, instead of gutting you like you thought Blake was going to do, he just gripped your hair tightly. You let out a whine of pain as he pulled you out of the room. “Don’t cry, honey,” he whispered into your ear, his lips brushing your skin with every word. “We’re going to go see Spencer before you and I run away to be together.  _ Forever _ .”

Blake’s grip on your hair made it difficult to keep up with his pace, and you were stumbling in his wake. The two of you were walking towards your backyard now, and you were  _ really _ starting to regret buying a house on 3 acres of land. It was easy to get lost in your backyard, which meant it would take the BAU even longer to find you…  _ and Spencer _ . Blake said he was taking you to take Spencer. That had to mean Spencer was alive, right?

A flash of silver sitting in the grass about 4 yards away caught your eyes- Spencer’s gun. You let out another sob. Who knows how long Spencer had been unarmed. Blake’s grip on your hair loosened slightly and a plan quickly formed in your head. You had never shot a gun before, but there was a first time for everything, right? Besides, how hard could it  _ really _ be?

You took a few deep breaths, your eyes never leaving the revolver that was  _ so close _ . Blake was blissfully unaware of the gun laying in the grass and you took that as your opening. You elbowed him in the gut, hard enough that he doubled over and instinctively let go of you. While he was distracted, you made a run for the weapon, tripping over your feet as you did so. You landed on the ground with a grunt and your shaking hands wrapped around the cool steel.

But it was too late. Blake had recovered and you saw the full, unfiltered anger he had been harboring. He muttered explicatives under his breath and pressed his foot down on your wrist, effectively preventing you from being able to shoot the gun. “You know, I was going to be nice about this,” he hissed, pressing down harder on your wrist. You cried out in pain as you heard a cracking noise and stars floated in front of your eyes. Your hand went limp and Spencer’s gun fell out of your grip. Blake picked up the gun, and you were close to hyperventilating now. “But apparently, you haven’t figured out that I’m the best thing for you.”

Blake pulled you back up, but it wasn’t easy for him. You thrashed about, kicking and screaming in the hopes that you could get free again, but it was in vain. Blake was tired of you fighting him and the last thing you saw before blacking out was the butt of Spencer’s gun coming down against your temple.

When you finally regained consciousness, the first thing you noticed was the pain in your head.  _ Getting pistol-whipped was no joke _ . The second thing you noticed was the ropes tied around your wrists and ankles. The ropes were tied so tightly that you could already see the red marks forming, and anytime you moved your arms, the pain in your wrist flared up so badly that you thought you would pass out again. You could feel the blood dripping from your temple from where you got hit with the gun

“Y/N, are you okay?”

At first, you thought you were just hallucinating Spencer’s voice; It wouldn’t be the first time. You frantically looked around, trying to ignore the spots floating in your eyes, until you found Spencer. He was tied up just like you, but his injuries were much worse. A black eye had already formed and he had a nasty gash across his jaw. His whole body was slumped, like it was taking all of his energy just to stay awake. It probably was. Blake had already beaten him pretty badly, and you knew that Blake wasn’t done. But when Spencer looked at you, there was a softness in his eyes. He wanted to make sure that  _ you _ were okay. It just made you feel guilty.

Before you could answer, Blake’s foot connected with Spencer’s ribs, and Spencer grunted in pain, doubling over. He was laying on his side now, curled in the fetal position. You didn’t want to imagine the beating he had gotten before you got there. “Don’t  _ fucking _ speak to her,” Blake yelled, kicking Spencer again and again. He pulled Spencer up and slammed him against the nearest tree, letting Spencer’s body crumple to the ground.

You begged Blake to stop, your screams coming out as broken sobs. That just seemed to make Blake angrier. “You’re going to defend this asshole?” he yelled, pointing at Spencer with the knife. “After what he did to you? No, I’m going to protect you.”

“You don’t have to do this,” you cried out. “Please don’t do this.”

Blake’s nostrils flared and you were worried that he was going to go back to beating Spencer. Instead, Blake just took two steps towards you. “You know, you gave me a  _ lot _ of content to work with for him. You wrote pages and pages of how much you thought you loved him and how much he hurt you. So when I chop him up- when I  _ hurt _ him the way he hurt you- what should I start with? The arms that held you? Or his gorgeous eyes? His hands maybe? I could cut up his chest that you  _ love _ to lay your head on. Or should I go big and cut off his head, since you think he’s  _ so smart _ ? Or maybe I just let him burn all at once so that there’s nothing left of him except bones and ashes? Come on, Y/N, how could you let a guy like this hurt you? Look at how pathetic he is. I’m strong, I wouldn’t just walk out on you. You should have loved  _ me _ ! And now you can.”

You couldn’t bear to look at Spencer, but he apparently had other plans. Spencer groaned from the floor, looking up at Blake. You wanted to yell at him to shut up and not draw any more attention to himself, but you knew that would do way more harm than good. “That’s why you were going to New York, wasn’t it?” Spencer grunted, wincing like every word hurt him.

You and Blake both looked at him in surprise. Between the investigation and your confusion about Spencer, you had completely forgotten about the trip. It was a surprise vacation from Blake- a way to help you get back on your feet and over Spencer. Spencer continued talking through labored breaths.

“You knew that New York was only a short drive away from Quantico. You knew all the details of our breakup and that made you angry. So you wanted to kill me in front of Y/N, maybe even get her angry enough to join you.” Spencer curled up even more, trying to quiet the whimpers of pain. Every breath he took looked like a challenge. “That’s why there was no hotel or return flight. The two of you were going to kill me and then run off together. I can’t say I blame you.”

Even though he couldn’t see you, you shook your head fervently, tears streaming down your face, partially in disbelief. Spencer was trying to tell you something, but your brain was working fast enough to process it. Blake, on the other hand, just laughed. “Your little personality assessments won’t save you now,” Blake promised. “You’re going to die today for what you did.”

You had to think of something, and quickly. You knew that you were still somewhere on your property so it was only a matter of time until the rest of Spencer’s team showed up. You just had to stall Blake long enough for them to get there. “Killing him isn’t revenge enough!” you blurted.

It worked. Blake lowered the knife and trained his eyes back on you. You looked to Spencer for any sort of confirmation that you were doing the right thing, but Spencer looked like he was fighting just to stay conscious. You had to trust your gut. “You’re right. I am… so angry at him for leaving. And… and it’s like I said in my fight with him- I would have been happier if I hadn’t met him.” You remembered that part of the breakup fight all too well, and regretted it as soon as you said it.

_ The two of you had been fighting for what felt like hours now and it didn’t help that you were both sleep-deprived. It was 3 am and all you wanted to do was go to bed. Whoever said “don’t go to bed angry” obviously didn’t have a boyfriend as stubborn as Spencer Reid.  _

_ “Tell me the truth,” Spencer said, his voice dangerously calm. “Would you be happier if we had never met?” It was an impossible question, and in the back of his mind, Spencer knew that. But the more emotional and insecure side of him needed to know her answer. _

_ You groaned and ran your hands across your face. “Are you serious right now?” you deflected, but he just reasked the question. “Would I be happier if I did not know you existed? Like if we never met?” Spencer just nodded, his arms folded across his chest. “I am not going to have this conversation with you.” _

_ You went to walk into your bedroom, your throat sore from yelling, but Spencer just grabbed your wrist. “Answer the question,” he pressed, but it sounded more like he was begging. _

_ You looked at his hand around your wrist and you just sighed. You were tired of this, and you knew whatever you said would just make Spencer angry. “I mean… yeah, probably,” you admitted, and he immediately dropped your hand. Now  _ he _ was the one turning to walk away, but you stormed after him. “No, don’t you dare get mad at me when you asked me to answer honestly. Okay, if we had never met, we wouldn’t even be having this fight. I wouldn’t wake up every single day worried about what kind of danger you were putting yourself in. It would be a lot less stressful for both of us. I could just fuck around with celebrities in LA. But I don’t regret it, and now that I’ve met you, I’d be  _ miserable  _ without you. You and I both know that.” But the damage had already been done. _

The memory hit you like a ton of bricks, but it was worth it because your words were working. Blake was already softening and ignoring Spencer. You reached your tied hands out to Blake, wincing as the ropes pulled against your wrist. It was definitely broken. “But Spencer is an FBI agent,” you reminded Blake. He was walking towards you now, and your whole body was shaking. “That means he made peace with his death a long time ago. Killing him would be… merciful. Let’s just leave now, you and I. I’ve always wanted to visit Spain. We could hide out there and it will be the best revenge on Spencer because he’ll have to live the rest of his life knowing he  _ failed _ . That will hurt him more than any knife wound.” Every word you said made you want to throw up, but you were desperate. You had to keep Spencer safe. Behind Blake, you could see figures in the distance slowly making their way towards you.  _ The BAU _ .

Blake seemed to consider your words. “You’re right,” he whispered to himself.

You nodded desperately. “I should have been with you the whole time, you’re right. I’ve loved you from the start and I was just too afraid to admit it. Untie me and we can go away together.” Blake took three long strides and crouched in front of you, holding the knife dangerously in front of your face. You made eye contact as best as you could, but the tears in your eyes made everything blurry. Hopefully, your lies were enough. He seemed to consider your words for a few more seconds before cutting your bindings and pulling you up. Just as Blake was about to make his escape with you, Hotch and the rest of the team surrounded the two of you, guns drawn.

Suddenly, Blake pulled you in front of him, his chest to your back. Your breathing became rapid again as you felt the cold metal of the knife pressed against your throat. Hotch was in front of you, his gun out. Logically, you knew he wouldn’t take the shot, not with you in the direct line of fire, but it didn’t make staring down the barrel of his gun any less frightening. “Blake, put down the knife and let Y/N go,” Hotch commanded, but it just enraged Blake even more.

“You don’t get to take her away from me,” Blake yelled, tightening his grip on you. You let out a soft gasp and lifted your chin, trying to avoid the blade. You felt a slight knick of the blade against your skin and a drop of blood fell onto your shirt. “If I can’t have her, nobody can! They all hurt her. I’m the only one who can protect her. We want to be together, so just let us go.” He was frantic now, even you could tell, and that terrified you. All it took was one quick slice.

Hotch didn’t move a muscle, and in any other circumstances, you would have been impressed by how well he could keep his cool. “I can’t do that, Blake. I know you don’t want to hurt her, but you’re the one with the knife to her throat.” As a show of good faith, Hotch slowly holstered his gun. “Let her go and put down the weapon so that we can talk.”

In the back of your mind, you knew it wasn’t going to work. Everybody in the BAU was just an extension of Spencer in Blake’s mind. He wouldn’t believe a word they said. But he  _ had _ believed you right before they came; That’s why he cut the ropes. You could hear Spencer’s voice in your head:  _ Trust the profile _ . 

Well, if you were going to die, you might as well go out doing something brave. With shaking hands, you softly covered Blake’s hands with your hand, like you were trying to hold them. You tried to keep your breathing even. “Just do what they say so we can be together,” you begged, but your voice was barely louder than a whisper. Your voice was hoarse from all the yelling you had already done. You knew you were just talking out of your ass, but it seemed to be working. Blake’s grip on you loosened. “And then I can use my money to get you a really good lawyer and I’ll testify on your behalf. And then when you get off, we can run away together, okay? But we can’t do that if they kill you, which they  _ will _ .”

It worked. Blake dropped the knife and you immediately ran towards JJ and Prentiss, the two of them holding you as you sobbed. Morgan grabbed Blake roughly and put the handcuffs on just a little too tightly, muttering how he was going to be put away for a long time; Nobody hurt Spencer and got away with it, Morgan was sure of that. 

Blake looked at you desperately, and for a sick moment, you saw a flash of the old Blake in his eyes. “I’ll see you at the station, yeah?” he begged as he was being pulled to the cop cars. “We’ll get through this together?”

Your face went red with anger and you started to charge him, Prentiss and JJ both having to hold you back. “Not a  _ fucking _ chance!” you spat, your voice rising to a hysterical pitch. The two women pulled you away from Blake the best they could. “The next time you’ll see me is when they drag you off in  _ chains _ for you to rot in prison, you perverted son of a bitch! I hate you!” You wanted to scream more, but the rush of adrenalin was gone, and the pain in your wrist and head was becoming unbearable. Like a light switch, your emotions went numb.

“Come on, Y/N,” Prentiss said, who looked a little impressed by your rant. “Let’s get you to the medics.”

You nodded and let her guide you to the back of an ambulance, where they began to put a cast on your wrist and bandage the cut on your head, a shock blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You were beginning to finally feel calm until you saw Spencer. Specifically, an unconscious Spencer being wheeled on a gurney into the back of an ambulance.

You stood up and moved the EMT out of your way so that you could get to Spencer, the shock blanket falling to the floor. You were hyperventilating again and about to break out into a run when a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you away. You desperately tried to fight through them, unable to tear your eyes away from Spencer.

“Woah, woah, you need to give them space so they can do their job.” It was Morgan who had grabbed you.

“You have to let me go,” you begged, desperately attempting to pry his arms away from you to no avail. He was much stronger than you. You couldn’t catch your breath, you couldn’t think straight, and you could barely form a sentence. The other BAU members were now crowding towards you. “Please, Derek. I have to see- They can’t give him morphine and they’re  _ going to _ . I have to go tell them that he can’t have morphine and I have to go apologize and  _ oh god _ Derek why isn’t he waking up, what did Blake do to him? I just got him back, we  _ just _ said we’d try again, and I can’t lose him now, please.” You were hysterical and you knew it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Morgan turned you around so that you were facing away from Spencer, but it didn’t stop you from flailing a little more. “Y/N…  _ Y/N _ ! We know that, and the EMTs know that, okay? They won't give him morphine and he’s going to be okay.”

That calmed you down slightly and you nodded, Morgan’s hands still gripping your shoulders. “He’s going to be okay?” you sniffed, and Morgan smiled at you- an honest smile.

“Yes, he’s going to be okay,” he promised. “Tell you what. Let’s get you patched up fully and let the doctors make sure your head is okay, and then I will personally drive you to the hospital to see him, alright?” You nodded softly, finally evening out your breaths, but you were still shaking. Morgan grabbed the shock blanket from the ground and wrapped it back around you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, hugging yourself. You knew that thank you wasn’t enough, but for once, you couldn’t find the right words.

Morgan just smiled again and patted you on the shoulder. “It’s no problem. I’m sure Spencer will be happy to see you.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long to get out- grad school apps are kicking my ass. We got Blake y'all and now we can be happy with Spencer


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter for today! It's not the best, but I wanted to get something out for you all!!

Spencer was getting really tired of waking up in hospitals. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust his eyes to the light and feeling like he got hit by a train.

“Hey, pretty boy’s awake,” came Morgan’s familiar voice. Spencer turned his head toward his friend, who was now leaning forward in the seat next to him. “Don’t worry, Garcia has already raided the cafeteria’s entire supply of Jello for you.”

Spencer chuckled weakly then immediately hissed in pain. “What happened?” Spencer muttered, his throat dry.

“Well, you got beat up pretty bad,” Morgan started. “Nothing too serious, but the bastard did manage to fracture a few of your ribs. Doctor already said you’re on desk duty for the next five weeks at least. Sorry kid.”

Spencer had to resist the urge to argue with Morgan. While he hated being out of the field, logically he knew that he was in no shape to hunt down serial killers. As it was, it hurt just to take a breath. “What about Y/N? Is she…” Spencer trailed off, studying Morgan’s face for any changes in expression.

Morgan just smirked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Concussion and a broken wrist, but other than that, she’s fine. She’s just giving her statement to the police. Besides, she wasn’t the one who needed to be brought to the hospital,” Morgan teased, and Spencer relaxed ever so slightly. You were okay. “Although…” Morgan continued. “She did seem  _ very _ worried about you. Something about just getting you back and trying again? What did you two get up to in that big, empty house while we were all gone?”

A hint of a smile formed on Spencer’s face and he seemed to be lost in thought. “Not what you’re thinking of. I  _ was _ still working,” Spencer finally spoke, and Morgan just laughed. “But we talked and realized that we were both miserable and… decided to try again and start all over.” Nervousness made Spencer’s voice trail off towards the end, the words just barely audible, and Morgan raised his eyebrow.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Morgan asked.

Spencer nodded, but his eyebrows were furrowed. “It is- a  _ really _ good thing actually. But I guess… I don’t think I want to start from the beginning,” Spencer admitted. “Before we broke up, we were going to move in together. We were talking about a future together and, I don’t know, I guess I just don’t see the point in moving backwards.” Spencer was looking at the ceiling now, the wheels turning in his brain. Saying the words out loud was scary, but it also solidified them- it  _ was _ what Spencer wanted. He wanted a family and a home outside of just the BAU, like JJ and Hotch had. And he wanted that with Y/N.

So Spencer was confused when Morgan just  _ laughed _ . Spencer snapped his head in Morgan’s direction, an incredulous look on his face, all while Morgan was chuckling and shaking his head as if he were at some stand-up show. “What’s so funny?” Spencer asked, his voice raised almost childishly.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, clearly still amused. “Have you told her any of this, Einstein? Or were you just going to sit back and hope she brought it up eventually?” Before Spencer could sputter out an answer, Morgan continued. “Listen. The entire team has spent the last few days reading and analyzing love songs that we now know are about you. She is  _ crazy _ about you. My guess is that she wants the same thing. I’m going to let you rest, but think about it- with your  _ heart _ , not your head, got it?” With that, Morgan clapped Spencer on the shoulder softly and walked out of the hospital room to where the rest of the team was waiting.

Just down the hall, the doctor was finishing getting your full cast put on. You decided on a purple outer layer, although you had to vehemently deny to yourself that it  _ wasn’t _ just because you associated purple with Spencer Reid. Once it was on, the doctor went through the care instructions for your wrist and for your concussion, but the information was just going in one ear and out the other. You were just anxious to get out of there and check on Spencer. You couldn’t get the image of him strapped to a gurney, blood dripping down his face and eye swollen, out of your mind. Derek had promised you that he was okay, and you believed him, but you also needed to see for yourself.

After what felt like way too long, the doctor finally released you, and you were out of the room before he could finish his sentence. It didn’t take long to find Spencer’s room- it was the one with the group of FBI agents waiting in front of it. Your previously confident stride stuttered until your body stopped moving completely, right in front of the BAU team. You opened and closed your mouth, chasing the words that were on the tip of your tongue.  _ Stupid concussion _ , you thought.  _ Don’t make me sound like an idiot right now. _ You shifted your weight back and forth, from the balls of your feet to your heels. 

JJ- sweet JJ- broke the silence first. “How are you feeling?” she asked, and it was like the first sip of hot chocolate on a winter day. You weren’t sure how much Spencer had told them, if he even had the chance to talk to them yet, but it genuinely seemed like the team wanted to know how you were feeling, instead of just asking to be polite.

“Honestly, better than expected,” you admitted. Why were you so nervous talking to them? “In a weird way, luckily this isn’t my first concussion rodeo, so I know how to treat these like a champ.”  _ Rodeo? Seriously? _ You attempted to laugh, but it came out more as just a large exhale.

Luckily for you, the team looked more amused than anything. Rossi raised his eyebrows at you, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips. “Not your first rodeo, huh? What happened the first time?”

You cleared your throat and bit the inside of your cheek. “High school. Our dodgeball unit of PE. This one girl did  _ not _ like me and she definitely didn’t follow the whole no headshots rule,” you told them, and you were met with a few amused chuckles. You moved your gaze to the floor as you fiddled with your fingers. “Uh, I just wanted to say thank you to you all for everything and also apologize for the danger I put you all in by keeping Spencer and me a secret. It wasn’t my intention and I think I was just scared, you know? So thank you.” It was a pathetic apology, you admit, but you couldn't find the words that would even begin to explain how grateful and sorry and scared you were.

“Well, we’re just happy that you and Spencer are safe,” said Emily, giving you a soft smile.

You considered your next words carefully, painfully aware of the unspoken questions between you and the group. “I know that when you all are on cases, you don’t really get the chance to sit down and eat real meals, and when you do, it’s just something quick and easy, and I know that you’re not leaving until tomorrow morning, so I wanted to extend an invitation to my house tonight and I’d be happy to make you all dinner. As a thank you.”  _ And as an excuse to spend time with Spencer and get to know them more _ , you added in your head. “I’ve been told that I make a great taco bar spread, plus I have a full liquor cabinet,” you added in an attempt to entice them more.

Everybody’s eyes moved towards Hotch, who was stoic as ever. You did not want him to hate you, and he is the only team member who hadn’t warmed up to you yet. Although, you couldn’t be sure if he ever really warmed up to anybody. But to your shock (and everybody else’s shock, going by their faces), Hotch lifted the corners of his lips into the ghost of a smile. “Thank you, Y/N. Once Reid gets released, we will be there.”

You let out a breath of relief and nodded quickly, muttering something about going to check on Spencer before you left, and the group parted to let you get into the room. The second you saw Spencer, your heart immediately felt like it was being squeezed. The bruising around his eye was already fading, but he still looked like he was in a lot of pain. At the sound of the door closing behind you, Spencer immediately turned to look at you, and he  _ smiled _ . Despite everything that had happened, he was happy to see you, and it almost made everything worth it.

“Hey you,” you said, your voice more lighthearted than it had been in days. You sat down in the chair next to his bed, scooting as close as you could to him. “Mind if I bother you for a few minutes?”

Spencer gave you a goofy grin. “It’s not a bother at all,” he said quickly. “I could use the company. Are you doing okay?”

You shrugged and reached your good arm out to brush away a rogue curl that was falling in Spencer’s face. “I am,” you told him, and it was a surprise to even yourself. Sure, what you had been through was  _ terrifying _ , but at the moment, you really were doing okay. “Although I am realizing that cooking for your entire team with one hand is going to be way harder than I thought.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, his head cocked to the side ever so slightly. It didn’t happen often, but he was cute when he was confused. “You’re cooking for us?” he asked.

“That I am. Already got it cleared with Hotch,” you told Spencer, moving your hand down from his hair to hold his hand. He gave your hand a small squeeze- a reminder that he was there. “I actually should be heading back to my place soon. I just… had to see you,” you admitted sheepishly.

Spencer nodded in agreement and his gaze was so intense that it felt like he was looking  _ through _ you. It was that faraway look that he always got when he was thinking about something, and you knew better than to ask him about it right then. He would need time to collect his thoughts, anyways. “I’m glad you came,” he said absentmindedly. “And I’m glad you’re safe. I should have known better than to leave you alone and I-”

You cut him off by shushing him and pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t apologize,” you pleaded. “You did your job and we’re both safe. I’m no FBI agent, but that’s a win in my book.” Spencer looked like he wanted to press it more, but you both knew it was going to be a losing battle. You quickly changed the subject. “So are you going to be the first to sign my cast, or can I let Penelope start doodling because I’m pretty sure she has markers at the ready, ” you teased.

Spencer smiled and motioned towards his satchel. You reached in, digging around for a marker and handing it to him. You watched him intently as he took your cast and carefully scrawled his name on it, right in the middle. His touch was soft and he let his fingers linger longer than normal. Your eyes twinkled as you saw what he wrote.

“ _ Dr. _ Spencer Reid,” you read. “Did you want to write each of your individual degrees, too, or is the honorific enough?” A blush spread across Spencer’s cheeks, and it just made you laugh. You brushed his hair out of his eyes again and kissed him on the forehead. “I like it. It’s cute. I’m going to let you get some rest because I have a lot of cooking to do. I love you and I will see you at dinner.”

The words slipped out before you even realized what you were saying. The sentiment wasn’t a new one between you and Spencer, but it  _ was _ the first time you had said it to him in months. So much for starting from the beginning.

Luckily, Spencer just shot you a shit-eating grin. “I love you, too,” he said, and it sounded just like a promise.


	11. Chapter 11

Going back home was surreal. Just a few hours ago, you had been held at knifepoint and not sure what was going to happen to you or if Spencer was even alive, and now you were back and making guacamole like it was a normal dinner party. It wasn’t too difficult with your wrist, most of it was just chopping. Luckily, making dinner was enough to keep your mind distracted so you didn’t have to think much about the events of the day. As the food finished cooking, you laid it all out on the kitchen table, constantly rearranging the plates in order to ease your anxiety. Before you could completely scrap the idea, your phone chimed.

**Text from: Spencer**

**Just got released from the hospital and on our way over**

**Text from: Spencer**

**Also, be prepared for a barrage of questions from Garcia and Emily. Gossip spreads fast in the waiting room, apparently**

You laughed to yourself and slipped your phone into your pocket. This was the moment you had been looking forward to for over a year, spending time with Spencer and his chosen family. Dinner was ready, so you decided to take a quick shower just to rinse off, not even bothering to wash your hair. Good choice, too, because as soon as you dried off and changed, you heard your doorbell ring.

You ran to the front door, maybe  _ too _ excited, and swung it open quickly, the entire BAU team smiling over at you. “Come in!” you greeted, moving to the side. “Food and drinks are on the table and  _ please _ eat as much as you want. Penelope, I also made soy chorizo for you since I know you don’t eat meat. It’s in the blue bowl and I promise you, it's the best thing you've ever eaten.”

Penelope gasped and turned to look at you. “Oh my gosh, you knew and you remembered! That is so sweet, thank you! Boy Wonder, I  _ cannot _ believe you hid her from us all this time?”

“Yeah Pretty Ricky, were you embarrassed by us?” came Derek’s teasing voice. He was already at the table, digging into the chips and guac.

Spencer was the last person to walk into the door, each movement slow and tense. The doctors had released him, but he was obviously still in pain. He hid it well though, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips. “Yeah, and have you all interrogate her and scare her off? Nice try. Hey.” He whispered that last part directly to you.

Emily, who was opening a bottle of wine with JJ, just laughed. “Oh don’t worry, we still have time for that. Garcia is running the background check as we speak,” she joked, throwing a friendly wink your way.

And just like that, all nervousness left your body. You helped Spencer make his way to the table, careful to not put too much pressure on his injuries. Once the two of you took your seats with everybody else, it was like the night came alive. The BAU quickly welcomed you into their little family with open arms- they even signed your cast. Everybody was laughing and telling jokes, all the stress of the case falling off their shoulders like a cloak. You finally understood what Spencer meant when he told you that the BAU was his family- his smile never faded once throughout dinner. Every once in awhile, he would lightly squeeze your knee under the table, a small reminder that he was there and this was all real. 

Once dinner started to slow down, you quietly excused yourself so you could put your plate in the dishwasher, grabbing some of the other empty dishes on the table. You walked to the kitchen, cherishing the laughter in the background. You were rinsing your dishes when a pair of arms snaked around your waist.

“Dinner was really good,” Spencer whispered in your ear, notching his chin on your shoulder. Your knees practically buckled, and you realized just how touched starved you were.

You smiled to yourself and rolled your head back onto his shoulder, your arms moving to cover his. “I’m glad you liked it,” you mumbled back to him. “It was the least I could do for everyone considering you all just caught a killer.”

You turned around so that you could face him, but his arms never left your waist. Instead, you snaked your hands up his chest and around his neck. Unconsciously, the two of you started to sway along to the music in the background-  _ Abba _ , you noted. JJ had put it on the stereo earlier.

“I don’t know about that,” Spencer murmured. “I heard that you were the one who was able to talk him down.”

You laughed and tried to hide your smug smile. Your fingers threaded in his hair. “ _ And _ I almost shot your gun,” you added nonchalantly. “You might just make an FBI agent out of me yet. Maybe you can put in a good word for me at the LA field office?”

The words were meant to be teasing, but there was a sadness in Spencer’s eyes when you said it. At first, you thought it was your comment about his gun- he never wanted you to have to be in that situation- but you saw that faraway look that Spencer had back in the hospital.

“I, uh… actually wanted to talk to you about that. You being in LA and everything,” Spencer stuttered out, and your heart sank. Your mind immediately went to worst-case scenarios. Was he changing his mind about the two of you? Was he going to leave the BAU to come to LA with you? Somehow, of the two options, the second one seemed way worse. The only comfort you had was the fact that he seemed to pull you in closer to him like he was afraid you were going to fade away.

“What about me being in LA?” you asked, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible.

Spencer licked his lips nervously. “It’s not so much about you being here as it is… You see, we only have a set amount of time on this Earth and you saw today, with my job it could get cut short at any time, and the idea of having to wait another year to get to where we are now just seems illogical. And I know that it’s going to be easier now that everybody knows about us, but a year is a long time and-” He was rambling now and he knew it, but you just nodded to encourage him on, trying to hide your smile.

Spencer huffed, his face flushing. “You’re laughing at me,” he argued, but he wasn’t angry. In fact, he was more relieved than anything.

“I am  _ not _ !” you argued through chuckles.

“I just think,” Spencer started again. “That I already lost four months with you. I don’t want to waste any more time. And I know that you have a life here and I have a life back east, but any step forward is progress.”

The two of you were quiet as you took in Spencer’s words, the only noise being the background chatter of your friends and the soft music.

_ Andante, andante, tread lightly on my ground… _

Your throat felt dry as you and Spencer continued to sway back and forth to the music. The dancing- if you could even call it that- was comforting. It made this whole situation feel normal. In a sense, it was a relief to hear that Spencer wanted the same thing you wanted, even if you hadn’t fully admitted it to yourself. You didn’t want to start from the beginning either, you just wanted to hit the ground running, but part of you was too afraid to admit it. How ironic- a poet afraid of love. 

_ Andante, andante, oh please don’t let me down… _

“What if I moved to Quantico with you?” you blurted, but even as you said it, you knew that it was what you wanted. If you were being honest with yourself, it’s what you had wanted the second you and Spencer had talked about moving in together all those months ago. “I can do my writing anywhere, and most of my meetings can be done over video calls.”

You could see Spencer’s internal battle, trying to decide if he should get excited about the prospect or worried as to why you came to that decision now. Apparently, he decided to go with worry. “I can’t ask you to move, I know how you feel about that. And you love it here, this is your home.” Even as he spoke, you knew he didn’t fully believe the words he was speaking.

“This house just got broken into, I was going to move out of here either way,” you reminded him. “And it’s not the location keeping me here, Spencer. My home is wherever you are.  _ You’re _ my home. I like Quantico, and then we wouldn’t have to spend all of our free time on airplanes. We could come home to each other.”

Spencer pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. It was soft, as if he was worried that anything more would ruin the moment. “I would really like that,” he said, his voice soft. “Only if you want to, of course. We can talk about it more- maybe even look at getting a new apartment, a bigger one?”

You laughed and moved one of your hands so that it was cupping his cheek, which he took as an invitation to kiss the inside of your wrist. The action sent shivers down your whole body. “We’re definitely going to need a bigger apartment,” you agreed before going up on your tiptoes to kiss Spencer. 

The kiss started innocently enough- an unspoken promise between the two of you- but it quickly escalated. Spencer’s fingers gripped your hips and you could feel the small bruises starting to form. You were pressed into the countertop now, but that didn’t stop the two of you from deepening the kiss, a soft moan escaping from your lips. The two of you pulled apart slowly, trapping his lower lip in between your teeth. You inched in to kiss him again, but he attached his lips to your neck, and you were more than happy to loll your head to the side in order to give him more skin to work with.

“Spencer,” you breathed out, half moan and half begging, and you could feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin. All of your senses were zeroed in on Spencer, from the smell of his cologne to the warmth of his hands slipping under your shirt. You couldn’t think of anything but Spencer. You know him. You love him. You  _ love _ him. And even better, he loves you.

He slowly kissed up your neck and back to your mouth and you practically melted. You could have stood there all night in your kitchen kissing Spencer, but the sound of the door opening forced the two of you to separate. 

There was Rossi, smirking, and leaning against the door frame, a knowing look in his eyes. “Oh, don’t stop on my account,” he chaffed, taking a sip of his drink. “I was young and in love once, I get it. I’m just going to refill my drink and then get out of your hair.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow at Rossi, his arms never leaving your body. “So you can go tell everybody what you saw?” he asked, smiling.

Rossi scoffed. “This is tame compared to what Morgan was thinking the two of you were doing.”

At that comment, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole to save you from the embarrassment, but Spencer just chuckled. “I can imagine.” The three of you walked back out to the dining room, where the rest of the group was just giving you and Spencer knowing smiles.

Hotch cleared his throat, effectively cutting the tension in the room. “Well, Y/N, thank you for the dinner. It was wonderful. But unfortunately, we have an early flight tomorrow and we should head back to the hotel. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around,” he added on as an afterthought, and you and Spencer couldn’t help but flash smiles at each other.

You said your goodbyes to the team, exchanging phone numbers and giving hugs to those who asked, Rossi even giving you a kiss on both cheeks. You weren’t ready to say goodbye just yet, but you reminded yourself that soon enough, you’d be living close enough to see them as much as you wanted. The thought gave you some peace. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Spencer pull Hotch to the side.

“Is there a problem?” Hotch asked Spencer, but it lacked Hotch’s usual air of authority.

That didn’t do anything to ease Spencer’s nervousness. “Y/N is still pretty shaken up over today and I don’t know if she’s comfortable staying here by herself and I was wondering-”

Hotch held up a hand to cut Spencer off, and Spencer was shocked to see a ghost of a smile on Hotch’s face. “Yes, you can stay here. One of the cars will pick you up at 7 am sharp so that we can head back home on time.” Hotch took a few steps towards the door before turning around slowly. “And Reid? She has a concussion and you have broken ribs, which means you  _ both  _ should be getting lots of rest. Do with that warning what you will.”

Snickers came from the rest of the group, whilst you and Spencer just looked mortified. “Y-yes, sir. Thank you, I will,” Spencer choked out, his voice two octaves higher than usual. The team muttered innuendoes to Spencer under their breath as they passed him, teasing him the way siblings would tease their younger brother.

As soon as they left, you were back by his side, covering one of his hands with both of yours. He just smiled down at you, kissing the top of your head softly. The two of you stood like that for a few wonderful moments, enjoying the peace and quiet and soaking in each other’s company. It wasn’t often you got these moments of peace with him. Too often, the time spent together was a desperate attempt to fit a month’s worth of a relationship into just a few days. And sure, Spencer would be on a plane back to the east coast in less than 12 hours, but you were so close to having the future with him that you’ve been dreaming about.

A quiet gasp of pain from Spencer brought you out of your daydreaming. His free hand was clutched to his ribcage. “Come on,” you told him, letting go of his hand. “You head on up to bed, I’ll bring you something to put on that.”

You rushed to the kitchen and grabbed one ice pack for him and one for you. By the time you got to your bedroom, Spencer was already laying on the bed, eyes glazed over and staring at the ceiling. He was obviously tired, but you could tell he was fighting sleep, even just for a little longer. You handed him his ice pack and laid next to him. Suddenly, it was like everything was alright again. You had barely slept in the past four months, and it wasn’t until just then that you realized why. It was because Spencer wasn’t in your bed with you; It didn’t feel empty anymore.

Spencer took the ice pack with a soft “Thank you,” and it was quiet again. Spencer spoke first, looking over at you. “The team really likes you. The girls are already planning on inviting you to a girl's night.”

“Oh, Penelope has already started a group chat,” you laughed. 

You wanted nothing more at the moment than to curl up with Spencer and to feel him pressed against you and to hold him, but with his ribs, you knew that would just cause more pain. So you settled on just holding his hand, and when he gave it an extra squeeze, you knew that everything was going to be okay.

You hummed contentedly to yourself. There were a million things you wanted to say to him, and none of them seemed right for the moment. You hadn’t realized how exhausted you were until you were laying in bed. But you didn’t want to go to bed, not with Spencer Reid finally back. You turned onto your side so you could look at Spencer fully, and as you turned you saw his eyes glued on you, mumbling something under his breath.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, a breathy laugh escaping your lips.

Spencer looked embarrassed at being caught in the act, his face flushing softly. “I uh… Reciting poetry?” It came out more like a question. “I know it always used to calm you down.”

You lifted his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to the skin. “You know that only works when I can actually hear it, right?” you teased, and you could feel your heart practically beating out of your chest. “Who are you reciting?”

The corners of Spencer's mouth twitch up into a smile. “Lord Byron,” he said quickly. “It’s  _ She Walks in Beauty _ .” You scooted closer to Spencer, as close as you could get without hurting him, and listened to him whisper poetry to you until both of you quickly fell asleep, never letting go of each other’s hands.

When you woke up, the first thing that came to your mind was  _ warmth _ . Your bed was warm and cozy in a way it hadn't felt in so long. The hand holding onto yours was warm, too. Your eyes fluttered open and you saw Spencer next to you, sleeping peacefully. Spencer didn’t always have a peaceful rest. In fact, he was often plagued by nightmares of cases past, so seeing him the way he was then made you feel almost guilty for having to wake him up. He looked much more like his age- like he didn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders all of the time. He looked free.

But you know that he had to go home today, as much as you didn’t want him to. “Spencer,” you whispered in his head, softly shaking him. “Spencer, it’s time to get up.” He groaned softly as his eyes opened, and as soon as he saw you, he had to blink a few times. He mumbled your name as if to question if you were really there. You let out a tiny giggle. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

When he realized that it, in fact, wasn’t a dream, his face split into a goofy grin. “Good morning,” he muttered, his voice raspy from sleep, and his hand went up to cup your cheek. 

You covered that hand that was on your cheek with your own and you kissed the inside of his palm. Every movement either of you made was slow and deliberate, like any sudden movement would ruin the fantasy the two of you had so perfectly constructed. “You should get ready to go,” you said, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I don’t think Hotch would appreciate you being late.”

Spencer sat up slowly, wincing at the feeling in his ribs. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that one.”

You watched as Spencer changed into fresh clothes, relishing in the domesticity of it all, but there was still a pang in your heart. Spencer seemed to be deep in thought, too, often stopping what he was doing to study your room, despite the fact that he had been in there a million times. Logically, you knew that in just a few weeks, you would be living with him, but it didn’t make watching him leave any easier. As he finished getting ready, you slowly slid out of bed and wrapped a robe around yourself.

“Are you excited to be on a plane with your team and answering all of their questions about your wild night?” you teased, snaking your arms around Spencer’s waist.

Spencer just laughed and dropped a kiss on the top of your head. “To be honest, I don’t think that they’ve fully wrapped their minds around the fact that I have a girlfriend,” he admitted before adding. “Are you going to be okay here alone while we apartment hunt?”

You took an audible breath and played with the buttons on his cardigan. “Yeah, I will. I think my mom is going to come to stay with me for a little, too, which will be nice.”

Your conversation was interrupted by Spencer’s phone ringing, a sound you knew all too well. He answered it immediately, not taking his eyes off of you. “Yeah JJ?” A pause. “Okay, I’ll be right out. Yes, I’ll tell her.”

You gave Spencer a sad smile. “Time to go?” you asked, already knowing the answer. 

Spencer just nodded. “Unfortunately. But JJ and the team say hi.” His eyes flicked back and forth between your eyes and your lips, deciding whether he wanted to kiss you goodbye or just commit this moment to memory. He chose the former and lifted your chin with his fingers, kissing you slowly. It was over all too soon. “I’ll call you when we land,” he promised.

“You better,” you whispered, and the two of you walked hand in hand to the front door. You had the force yourself to let him go, but you were comforted by the waves coming from the SUV in your driveway. He was in good hands. And pretty soon, you would be, too.

The two of you said your goodbyes, and you watched him slide into the SUV and drive away, the sight a little sad, but a little hopeful, too.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey... hey.... how y'all doing?? I am so sorry this took forever to get out, I've had some major writer's block. So this chapter is short and not the best, BUT it's out and can serve as something like a prologue to get us started on our next chapter with Spencer in DC.

Moving to Virginia with Spencer happened much quicker than you expected. Since both you and Spencer were given doctor’s orders to rest and stay away from work, the two of you didn’t have to worry about finding time in your usually busy schedules to start apartment hunting. When they weren’t on cases, Morgan and Penelope went with Spencer to check out potential apartments in person, and Penelope was more than happy to give you her very detailed opinions on each one via video chat.

Within five weeks, you were on your way to the East Coast. The two of you found a cute place that was only a 15 minute metro ride to the FBI headquarters. Instead of a piano room like you had in your old place, you decided to keep your piano in the living room and turn the extra room into a little library-office set up so that Spencer didn’t have to keep his desk by the front door.

Truly, with the number of books between the two of you, half of the apartment was covered in bookshelves, and that was  _ after _ Spencer and you spent an entire afternoon going through each of your books to make sure there were no repeats. It was like the beginning to a bad joke- a certified genius and an English major move in together, and the apartment starts to look like the Library of Alexandria.

The pride and joy of the makeshift library, however, was the big display cabinet that Spencer had surprised you with, that was reserved for only the most special books. Your  _ Frankenstein _ collection took up an entire shelf, Spencer’s rare and first editions that he got from his mom took up another shelf, and on the top shelf…

_ “Spence, there are only three books up there,” you had told him when you first saw it. “We have plenty of room for more stuff to go there.” _

_ Spencer had given you a sparkling smile, looking more excited than a kid on Christmas. “Actually, I thought we could make that shelf for books you’ve published, or at least been published in. I have your two poetry collections and the book I was reading when we first met. Those count as pretty special, don’t you think?” _

Yeah, you were really in love with Spencer Reid.

Currently, you were unpacking the last of your miscellaneous items while Spencer was at his doctor's appointment to see if he would be cleared for work. A selfish part of you hoped that he wouldn’t be, just so the two of you could have a little more time in domestic bliss, but you knew that Spencer was itching to get back to work.

You couldn’t blame him, either. Every once in a while, the BAU would call him and ask for his advice on a case, and you could see his eyes light up. He needed that job almost as much as they needed him.

Your phone ringing brought you out of your thoughts and you pulled your phone out of your pocket. It was your mom FaceTiming you.

“Hey Mom,” you answered, taking a seat on Spencer’s couch.

Your mom was holding the phone at an angle that only a middle aged woman could get, but her smile was wide. She had some sort of mixed drink in her hand and a half empty bottle of tequila in the background, which was bold considering it was only 1 in the afternoon in California. “How’s the move going?”

“It’s good,” you told her. “We’ve had a lot of help from his coworkers, which is nice. Oh, and I’m looking at renting office space somewhere in the city so that I can have a space for meetings and just to keep my work life out of the house as much as possible. With Spencer about to go back to work, being in an office will make things seem normal whenever he has to travel. I hope.”

Your mom frowned slightly at the end of your story, which confused you. Moving was going well, especially now that you and Spencer were pretty much completely healed from your injuries.

“Are you  _ sure _ moving in with Spencer is a good idea?” your mom asked. “I mean, I know you’re scared, but Blake is in prison and-”

You cut your mom off with a groan. “I’m not moving in with him because I’m  _ afraid.  _ You were totally on board with Spencer and I living together before we broke up!”

Your mom shrugged and took a sip of her drink. “Yeah, that’s when I thought he’d be moving here, not the other way around. I didn’t think you’d be going to the other side of the country.”

A sigh escaped you as you stood back up. “Mom…” you whispered, trying to find the right words. “Spencer moving out west was never an option, he’s a high ranking FBI agent. It shouldn’t have even been up for debate.”

She frowned at you, pausing to find the right words. “I’m... just going to miss you, that’s all.”

It was odd to see your mom be this open emotionally. She really was like your best friend and was always considered the “cool mom”. She let you and your friends drink in the house in high school if you wanted, helped organize senior ditch day, and was generally laid back. You’d never seen her this vulnerable before.

“You can come visit us whenever you want,” you promised her, giving a small smile. “Our guest room is even west facing, which I know you love.

Just like a rubber band, your mom snapped back to her usual self. “Oh no, I’m staying in a hotel when I visit you two. You know that I love Spencer like he’s my own, but I am not smart enough to be around him for long stretches. Besides, who knows… Maybe you’ll need that extra room down the line… Like for a nursery.” Your mom smirked over at you knowingly and you turned bright red.

“Don’t start,” you warned, and at just the right time. You could hear the door being unlocked, a sure sign that Spencer was about to walk in and hear this entire conversation.

“Well, neither of us are getting any younger, and I would like grandkids while I can still be active and play with them!”

You laughed nervously. Children were something that you and Spencer had never really talked about. He had mentioned in passing that he had thought about having kids of his own someday, and then the subject was never really brought up again. You knew that he was hesitant and afraid of what would happen if he  _ did _ have kids. Spencer could get hurt at work or the kids could become targets themselves. You knew that he was also worried about his family’s predisposition to mental illness, especially regarding schizophrenia, and he wanted his kids to have an easier life than him.

And you? Well, you never really thought about it much. Before Spencer, you never met somebody who you would have wanted to have kids with. You didn’t exactly grow up in a normal household, and you were afraid you wouldn’t be a good mom. Besides, childbirth was kind of terrifying.

Spencer walked through the door, scrunching his nose up in confusion and pointing at your phone questioningly. “My mom,” you explained to him, turning the screen so that Spencer could see for himself. Spencer gave a smile and a small wave to your mom.

Before he could even get a word out, your mom was already talking at a rapid fire pace. “Spencer! Finally! Look at you, you cut your hair! It’s so short now! You look good. Y/N, why haven’t you sent me any recent pictures of him?”

Spencer laughed and walked over to where you were standing, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek as a greeting. “I did, yeah. Thank you. It’s good to see you.”

You turned your phone back so it was facing you. “Okay Mom, we have to go but I will talk to you later, I promise.”

“With Spencer there?” she pressed, and it was hard to hide your laughter. She really did love Spencer, even if she didn’t fully understand him. She would brag about him to her friends as if he was her own child.

“Yes, Spencer will be there, too,” you promised. “I love you, goodbye!”

You hung up the phone and turned to face Spencer, who was practically bouncing from excitement. “Good news?” you guessed.

Spencer’s face broke out into a grin as he nodded. “Yes!” He sat down on the couch, pulling you down with him. You flung your legs over his lap. “I am cleared to travel. Hotch already signed off on the psych eval.”

You tried to hide your disappointment. You  _ were _ happy that Spencer was healthy and was able to go out and do what he loved. It just didn’t make missing him while he was gone any easier. “That’s exciting!” you said. “You get to go back on the jet and use that big brain of yours for good.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes slightly as he studied your expression. “Really?” he questioned.

You smiled and gave him a chaste kiss. “Really. Besides…” You moved so that you were straddling Spencer’s lap, your hands resting on his chest. “I’m assuming that means you're cleared for  _ all _ activity?” you questioned, lowering your voice.

Spencer’s pupils immediately dilated and his hands went to rest on your hips as he pulled you closer to him. “Fully cleared,” he confirmed, and you hummed appreciatively before meeting his lips with yours.

When Spencer kissed you, it was like a fire had been lit inside you, consuming every inch of your body. His hands slowly dragged their way up the sides of your body until he was gripping the sides of your face, and your thoughts were completely consumed by want for him.

You smiled into the kiss as he pressed closer to you, causing your back to arch. Your fingers slowly started to undo the buttons of his shirt, desperate for more. You moaned slightly in the kiss. Everything Spencer did was slow and deliberate like he was completely relearning your body.

“I missed this,” he mumbled in between kisses. “And all of the pretty sounds you make.”

Fucking  _ finally _ you got the last button of his shirt undone, and you could feel the warmth of his bare skin as you ran your hands up and down his torso. You wanted Spencer,  _ needed _ him.

Of course, life got in the way. Spencer’s phone ringing forced the two of you apart, neither of you looking very happy about it. Even though he wasn’t cleared to go to work, the team would often call him if they needed a consultation or advice. Since you were closer, you reached over to the side table and grabbed Spencer’s phone, taking a peek at the caller ID.  _ Derek Morgan _ .

Without giving it much thought, you answered the phone and put it on speaker, much to Spencer’s dismay.

“You’ve reached the cellphone of Dr. Spencer Reid,” you started formally, pushing away Spencer’s hands as he started to reach for the phone. Ever since that dinner at your LA house, you had become fast friends with everybody in the BAU, especially Derek and Penelope, so you were comfortable joking around with them. “Unfortunately, he is unable to come to the phone right now as he is busy ravishing his  _ very  _ willing and eager girlfriend in their new apartment, but I’d be happy to leave a message for you.”

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Spencer asked, his voice going up an octave and only partially mortified. Morgan, on the other hand, just laughed.

“I’m glad you and Pretty Boy are making the most of your alone time,” he teased, and you couldn’t help but giggle as a blush spread across Spencer’s face. “Do you think the two of you can detach yourselves long enough to come out to drinks with the team tonight? We finished the case early and are scheduled to land in an hour.”

“Hm…” you mused, moving off of Spencer and sticking your tongue out teasingly. “I hope so, but I have to find the keys to the handcuffs first.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide. “No, Derek we are not- That’s not true, I’m right here and not misusing government-appointed hardware,” he called out as his blush deepened, which just made Derek laugh harder.

“Don’t worry, I won’t snitch,” Derek promised, although you were sure Garcia was going to hear all about this.

“Drinks sound like fun,” you told Derek, and you had to hide your gasp as Spencer grabbed onto your waist. “We’ll see you there. Later.”

You hung up the phone and turned to face Spencer, who was staring at you with a wicked glint in your eyes. “I’m so going to get you back for that one,” he whispered.

You chuckled as you traced a finger down his still-bare chest. “I’m counting on it. I’m going to go get ready. And Spence? I’m really happy that you get to go back to work.”

Spencer smiled at you, his eyes so full of adoration that you could have cried. This was the life you’ve been waiting for, and having it come true was so surreal that you had to keep reminding yourself that it was real. But it was, and you were determined to not let Spencer go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love you have given this story!! You are all so special to me.


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